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#one will always be ganged up upon
eomcheong-keun-megi · 6 months
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3racha everyone
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thenugking · 3 months
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My 50th fic posted to AO3 (at least publicly)! It's a rewrite of my first one, Concatenation! It turns out I'm better at writing now than I was 12 years ago! If you like Romana and Narvin, you should go read it!
A look at the development of Romana and Narvin’s relationship, with ficlets for every episode of series 1-3 of Gallifrey. (Written as a Romana/Narvin shipper, but it’s all pre-relationship, and most of them could definitely be interpreted platonically if you prefer.)
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that-one-p00k1e · 3 months
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───〃★ didn't see that coming? ೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆。
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✧ summary: kissing them unexpectedly ft. Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Ren Kaji, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Chika Takiishi, & Jo Togame
✧ content: fluff, gn!reader, OOC (especially w/Chika's since I haven't read the whole manga yet), lots of pure kisses, established!relationship
✦ a/n: no more screen time of my beloveds till next year 😢
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— HARUKA SAKURA | You were at his house, feeding him food and medicine to tend to his fever. He kept insisting that he was fine and was able to take care of himself, but you wouldn't budge no matter how much he argued back. Due to his sickened condition, his energy to complain was quickly drained out. In the end, he let you do your thing and even tuck him to bed. You watched him close his eyes, cool cloth placed on his forehead as his brows let loose and his breathing calming down. The sight made you feel slightly more at ease. Before deciding to leave, you placed a quick peck on his forehead and whispered, “Get well soon, sweetheart.” His fever rose higher the next day.
— HAYATO SUO | He was always the one to initiate something unexpected, which made you determined to get back at him for once. You walked home with him holding an umbrella under the rain, and you saw how he was focused on the road. Seeing the clear opportunity, you went on your tippy toes and squeezed your eyes shut, kissing his cheek before looking away flustered. His eyes went wide for a moment, before smiling and retorting, “My, my. I see you've gotten quite bold, my dear.” Although he was smooth with it, he internally admitted your attempt in catching him off guard was successful.
— REN KAJI | A pout has been tugging his lips all morning. Ever since you came along with him on patrol, you felt the grumpy aura he emitted despite him acting all nonchalant with it. Little did you know that he was sulking. When he came to pick you up this morning, he reached out a hand to hold yours when you turned back to retrieve something; when he considered to lend you his headphones, you bumped into Sakura and the gang; when he reattempted to hold your hand, Lisa came jumping into your arms. He was fuming. Thankfully, at the end of the day, you realized. “Ren?” He looked at you silently, waiting for you to continue as he rolled the sucker in his mouth. “Can you take the candy out real quick, please?” He was confused, but complied either way. With that, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, before pulling back with a fond smile. He was confused yet again, but this time, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, relishing in the feeling of finally being able to hold you.
— HAJIME UMEMIYA | Today was a gardening date, where you'd help him out with his garden at the rooftop. Like usual, he proudly exclaims how the plants have grown fast and healthy. It was like seeing a proud father boasting about his children. His smile when he held up two pots of tomatoes was brighter than the sun that was shining upon the both of you, and it was endearing to the point where you couldn't help it anymore. You quickly cupped his face and pressed your lips against his before pulling back and saying, “My sweet, gardener boyfriend.” He immediately placed down the pots, almost dropping them before swooping you up in his arms and twirling you in the air.
— JO TOGAME | You looked up at the sky, hearing cracks of fire as it bloomed into colorful sparks. After strolling through stalls and winning prizes, the festival's main occasion finally made its arrival. Turning to your boyfriend next to you, you tugged at his sleeve and called out to him quietly, “Jo…” gesturing that you had something to say. Just as he leaned down to listen, you gently pulled his face and connected your lips to his. He didn't see that coming, but he wasn't going to complain as he wasted no time and melted into the kiss– pulling you closer by the waist and savoring this sweet moment under the flashing fireworks that lit up the sky above.
— MITSUKI KIRYU | Nothing wrong with taking a break from your small screen gadgets and entertain yourself with something slightly more traditional. Other than the games on his phone, Kiryu was surprisingly good at the ones at the arcade as well. From basketball toss to Pac-Man, you both competed on who could earn the most tickets. Of course, he was taking the lead. He was currently focused on the spinning light, calculating the right moment to press the button and hit the jackpot. When suddenly you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, causing him to lose focus and accidentally push down the button, missing the awaited jackpot. “Hey, that was cheating.” He still won in the end, but gave his tickets to you anyway.
— CHIKA TAKIISHI | He always looked so aloof– like there were no literal fucks he'd seriously give, and everything others say were just a broken TV's buzzing. Oddly enough, you found that trait to be adorable. Sometimes, you find yourself gazing and staring at his majestic self as he looks off into somewhere or nowhere, holding the familiar empty gaze you've grown used to. He was like an innocent, introverted child during a family gathering– the ones who choose to space off and act cold to those who tried to approach or tease him. The sight was so irresistibly cute, you couldn't help yourself but to squeeze his cheeks between your palms and press a quick kiss on his cheek. “You're so CUTE!” He remained unfazed and gave no reaction, but slithered an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.
— AKIHIKO NIREI | Seeing and hearing him yap about the things he took interest in has always been a trait of his that you found endearing. And right now, you couldn't help but marvel at the way he was so passionate about something to the point of writing it down in his notebook. You listened to it all– nodding and throwing in responses here and there to keep the conversation going. In the middle of his babbling, you leaned forward and gave a quick peck on his forehead. “And then what happened?” you asked innocently afterwards like it was nothing. Meanwhile he was left a stuttering, blushing, and questioning mess of a nerd.
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nouearth · 1 month
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“'TILL WE SEE STARS”
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zane phillips, nico greetham, drew starkey, taylor zakhar perez, tom holland, and oliver stark x male reader.
𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓— fic [ 14.7k ] 〳 part one
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒—male reader〳make sure to read part one!〳established relationship 〳 collage!au 〳jealous!zane 〳 sexual content: everyone is a top, bottom!reader, cum dumpster!reader, double penetration, gang bang, rough!sex, kissing, spitting, breeding, cumplay, bukkake, blowjobs, handjobs, praising, body worshipping, lots and lots of filthy sex!
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You didn’t notice right away.
In your defense, Zane had always been exceptionally distracting, and that would only become harder to refute since you’d been something to him.
Rephrase that—someone.
Someone special, someone of importance, someone that meant something.
You’ve had doubts. Who wouldn’t when even your own friends looked at you with such bewilderment upon introducing him to the small group. Nerds and Jocks don’t mix; a childish verity you and your friends held with high regard since being hit in the face with a ball happened one too many times to brush those instances off as mere coincidences. That, and your snickering high school classmates would since provide you a whole new perspective on that matter.
But you went on to prove your friends wrong, prove that your doubts were meager tricks that only persisted to keep you from exploring out of your comfort zone—from living life to its fullest possibilities. The house that had once shielded you from all cruelties the world and its inhabitants brought with them began to crumble from its residence on a clifftop. Parts that made up the foundation sacrificed themselves in pursuit to bring you home. Wood, stone, red bricks; they catapulted into the ocean, swam on the surface, floated for air, and dived in the deep sea. Farther and farther, they searched for you, hopeful for any signs of life that signaled for your immediate rescue.
Instead, what they found was baffling.
It was you, but it wasn’t you at the same time. Something changed—this growing assurance in your disposition, holding onto a man, large and more than capable to protect, a threat to the house that had kept you safe since birth.
Betrayal, what happened to my son? My boy? My sweet boy?
You could hear the rage in their authoritative voice, but you’ve grown to realize their awful cadence had only been a tactic for you to come back—come back to them—to scare you into being the perfect boy they’ve raised you to be.
Every kiss from the man ignited a fire within you. He forged you with strength, with fortification, with affection—and you uttered a strong defiance, then watched the foundation disintegrate before your very eyes, piece by piece.
***
There was always so much care in Zane’s palms, yet he’d proven you to be exceptionally attentive when he was upset. Like he was trying to persuade you from deviating too far into his worries.
It was embarrassing to admit how long it took for you to piece it altogether—why he was often in a mood, or why he was adamant in making you stay the night at his apartment. You never pondered about it for too long as it never amounted to much. All it took was a night in his bed, watching his favorite shows, kissing and fondling to take his mind off of what was festering inside, and everything returned back to normal. A stressful day at work or practice, you’d reckon as you watched him sleep on your chest, his gentle snores beckoning you to your slumber.
But you began noticing a pattern. It happened every Thursday and Friday. You’d come to his place after tutoring, and he would greet you by the entrance with the most fulfilling kiss. Grappled by his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, and your lips raptured by his.
“Well, greetings to you too! I brought dinner.”
“That can wait… I missed you,” he would say before swooping you off your feet and fleeing with you into his bedroom.
At the least provocation, he’d proven all too willing to lick into your mouth and shove his greedy hands beneath your shirt. It was a growing tendency that you weren’t inclined to draw to a close because frankly—there was nothing to complain about, other than the cold takeout.
As observant as you usually were, you blamed yourself for not puzzling Zane’s growing possessiveness to your tutoring sooner.
Or maybe you were turning a blind eye, because you anticipated the magnificent nights he’d bestow on you. On those nights, Zane was especially keen to make you take all of him—every inch, every seed, every feeling.
“Swallow it all. I don’t want to see a drop left, baby.” “M-mmfngh—“
All in all, it was beginning to become clear that those days were bothering him. You could feel the tension in the air, the heaviness in your gut as Zane swelled inside of you for the second time of the night, two days in a row.
It was beyond the fact that you tutored—he was fine with that.
It was who you were tutoring.
On Thursdays, you could feel his delusional need to investigate who’d been in your mouth. Tom? Oliver? Taylor? He would suckle on your tongue until you reeled back for a breath, and even then, he wouldn’t stop licking into your mouth.
On Fridays, his hands wouldn’t leave your body. They covertly searched high and low, back to front, squeezing, pulling, roaming, pushing, for any marks, for any evidence of Nico’s presence, of Drew’s marks—but the only blemishes were Zane’s from the day before. A love bite to your neck, and another one to the left of your hip bone.
No one.
You both knew it was the truth—your loyalty to him, but Zane was a madman who was being fed with delusions beyond your control, and in turn, it gifted you the most passionate lover only you could’ve fantasized in novels.
“Oh, g-god. Right there. Don’t go faster, Zane. Don’t slow down. Just like that—“ “Yeah? You like my cock wrecking your pretty hole? Just. Like. That?”
***
“Would it make you feel better if you were with me?” you mentioned out of the blue, the show you two had been watching finally rolled the credits.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Zane averted his gaze toward you, blindly reaching for the remote and switching the TV off. Then, he pulled you closer into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His nose buzzed with delight at the scent of your shampoo.
“Well…” he watched you ponder—your gaze avoidant and wandering unlike the abrupt tension he felt in your body. He opened his arm out of concern, allowing you to properly gather yourself with the newfound space. You sat up and resumed explaining carefully, “I know you don’t like it when I’m… with your friends—alone. Embarrassingly enough, it just hit me—and… well, you seem off these days. And I think it’s because of that.”
It was like being caught in a lie. Not one of those major ones that Zane knew he would commit from beginning to end, but a white lie—a vaulted truth to spare your feelings, even if it meant that it was festering and poisoning him on the inside.
It was an unspoken promise. A natural response. A firm conviction that he should bear your troubles and worries in solitude.
After all, he was your boyfriend, your protector.
“What? Babe—no, what? Have I been acting different? I don’t know. I guess work’s gotten busier, so I guess that could explain…” He was teetering on the edge of revelation or secrecy, stammering until he was one step away from falling.
Zane was never a great liar.
“Come on. You can be honest. Is it because you don’t trust me? Because we study at the library and—“
“No, I absolutely trust you. Don’t say that.”
“I mean, it’s probably weird for me to be hanging out with them—in a way. It makes sense that you’d want to be there, so I get it if you feel hurt or disappointed or—“
“Babe, it’s not—“
“They’re your friends, not mine. I mean, I don’t think they see me as a friend anyway? I’m their tutor, and that’s how it should be…”
“(M/N), wait a second—“
Your hands were theatrical. Grandiose. If you had a symphony playing with you, they’d be performing with fervor, sweating until the grasp on their instruments had slipped at the nearing crescendo, and the audience would gasp altogether to fill the void of abrupt silence.
“I promise, Zane. All I do is give them assignments, like I did with you—well, not like I did with you. We were a little different, weren’t we… but with them? I-it’s like how I tutor everyone else and…!“
You suddenly stood up from the couch, clearly exasperated by the lack of words that could properly support your claims.
“Hey, hey…” he quelled you with a gentle tug to your hand, silently urging you back to his side with a consoling grin. You huffed, sucking in what he could presume to be more self-destructing words, and dramatically let the tension on your shoulders push your body onto his lap.
It wasn’t the right moment to notice, but would you kill him if he felt more inclined to annoy you in the future if this was how charming you always looked? The answer would probably be no. You had a tendency to forgive—a little too easily.
“Then what’s wrong? Is it my fault? Over-cooked your chicken? Ate your protein bar without asking? Got a stain on your hoodie, but I think I washed it out…?” Frowning, you stared back up at him through your eyelashes, chin sunken to your chest, and completely hopeless.
For a moment, he was speechless. It always took one glance from you for Zane to lose his train of thought. Even when you felt all kinds of emotions, there was still that glint in your eyes that never failed to make his heart feel like it was about to burst.
“Kinda is your fault. I mean, if you hadn’t been born with that handsome face of yours, or been blessed with brains and kindness, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Be serious!” Zane felt your body tense up again. You were about to pull yourself off his lap before he rested a hand to your chest and gently pushed you back. “So, there is a problem…”
“It’s my problem, (M/N),” he began soothing your chest in small circles. The cotton soft in his palm before it was inevitably delighted with the firmness of your chest when he slipped a hand under your shirt, resuming his caress.
“I might not have a lot of experience in dating, but I’ve watched a lot of films to know that partners help each other when either one of them have a problem.”
Guilt was quickly catching up to him. Zane could feel its presence looming over his head. Like smog, heavy and thick, and even if it had waned into thin air—completely obliterated to the back of his mind—Zane was confident he would be suffering from the ramifications of it in the future.
“God… what am I going to do with you,” he dipped forward and buried his head into your body, using your shirt to muffle his conflicted groans.
It was those eyes of yours again. He couldn’t bear to face you with the secrets he’d been withholding, but he was already in this predicament. Ignoring it, even after being called out on his behavior, would just make things worse than if he would just tell you the truth.
He waited for seconds. Then seconds turned into minutes. Then those remaining minutes were spent sighing at the softest strokes you brushed through his hair, to occupy the silence, or to break the tension between you two. Either way, his heart felt heavier despite your comforting attempts.
With a mutter, Zane turned his head towards you and looked truthfully into your eyes, “Yeah, I’m jealous.”
You immediately perked up to join him at his side again, taking his hand into yours, “Zane, I promise—nothing happens…”
“No, I know, (M/N). I trust you. I mean, what can I say? I miss you. Our schedule isn’t aligning like I thought it would, and it feels like I’m seeing you less since you’ve taken Tom, Drew, Taylor… all of them for tutoring.”
“I can cut back? Maybe arrange the meetings to fit your schedule, and that way we can—“
“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to be that type of boyfriend.”
“Well, I can’t just sit here and watch you suffer.” Zane watched you play with his fingers, clamping your hand to his, then unclasping as his thoughts prolonged another silence.
“You have no idea, (M/N). I… God, it’s all fucked up.” He rubbed his face to comfort himself, groaning into his palms before taking your hands into his again.
Nothing calmed him more than simply holding you.
“What? It’s just about us not spending enough time together, right? Maybe I’m too optimistic, but that seems like something that can be easily resolved…”
“No—I mean, yes. That’s the problem, but it isn’t the main problem…”
“Then… what is?”
From the corner of his eye, he watched you physically brace yourself, straightening your posture like the suspense had been literally killing you and your insides. You took one deep exhale, preparing yourself for the worst while Zane fished for his phone, and scrolled through his messages.
He began explaining.
Taking tutoring lessons was the last thing on the team’s mind. For Zane and Nico, it was a simple affair. Their grades were dropping like flies, and their coach didn’t like the sight of that, or the consequences that would follow. If they didn’t take their grades seriously, how could Coach trust them to lead the team? How can they lead the team with discipline—if they severely lacked it themselves? Zane was warned of this predicament for multiple semesters, and it was only recently when he began taking it seriously.
He’d never received a letter from his coach before, and as laughably traditional as it was, he’ll forever remember the sinking feeling in his chest when he read the last paragraph of his coach’s handwriting:
Fix your grades by the end of the semester, or you’re out. No more second chances. You’re great, but not that great for me to put your future in jeopardy. Sorry, I should’ve been harder on you.
Without much arguing, he did as he was told. Week by week, month by month, Zane and Nico’s grades improved tremendously, and the threat of being kicked off the wrestling team was delayed for another semester. However, as much as the guys were impressed by their success, Zane couldn’t owe the credit to solely himself. You were a major part of his triumphant journey, and the team would since become greatly fond of you and your saving contributions to the group.
Maybe it was inspiring to watch Zane and Nico dig themselves out of a rut, an underdog story that everyone loved rooting for in the movies. Or maybe it was some kind of unspoken brotherhood, where if one was struggling, then the other would join them in their agony to establish some type of rapport. Because soon after, Zane’s teammates found themselves in an awfully similar situation to him and solicited your service.
But Zane knew his teammates.
Zane knew that this decision was completely out of left field. Taylor, Tom, Drew, Oliver; it was strange to see all of them suddenly feel the need to seek out a tutor—specifically you out of all the available people—to help them with their studies.
It was odd to listen to them complain that their grades had been dropping, apparently lower and lower with every passing week.
And again, Zane knew his teammates.
He spent every waking second with them since they’d met each other as freshmen; aligned every course with the guys so he’d come into class knowing at least one person; visited each other’s house on semester breaks because why the hell not—it was on the drive home. For god’s sake, all of their parents knew the team by government name, siblings if they had any, and even their own aspirations in life.
They were teammates, but they were also best friends.
So, Zane had every right to call this entire arrangement as bullshit.
They weren’t struggling with their grades. Tom and Taylor were honor students. Oliver was a teaching assistant. Drew was interning for a marketing firm that made Zane’s eyes hurt when he snooped through Drew’s emails, and looked at the qualifications for the rather imposing position.
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
They were fucking with him.
Or to better clarify—trying to fuck with you.
Trying to fuck you.
It was Zane’s fault. He wasn’t clear that he was actually serious about his relationship with you, and that unlike his previous relations, there was no sharing with the team. All hands were off—should be off—and the only ones you’d be holding were Zane’s.
No.
That didn’t sound right.
It was their fault. It had to be their fault. They were the ones talking about you like they had never seen a pretty boy in their life, like they had never seen a man sharing this dreadful place we call Earth. A man with those pretty eyes, smiling with that pretty mouth, frowning with those pretty cheeks, typing with those pretty hands—the team would practically brand you as theirs with every session they’d return from studying with you, and they boasted about it all to Zane’s face.
Maybe it was his fault after all.
Zane loved bragging about you. It wasn’t something he often did with his previous partners, but something about you changed him. Zane loved showing your selfies off to his friends. One day he’d marvel how soft your lips were, the next he’d go on a tangent about what an incredibly kind person you were for finding someone’s lost dog. It was all arbitrary. As long as it was framed around you, the topics bounced from your looks to your body to your personality, and to his surprise, his friends would chime in too.
Increasingly more, as they would get to know you following every meeting.
The worst part was that Zane allowed it to happen and found himself encouraging this behavior he was scrutinizing. The group chat was complete evidence of his participation, and with every message, he could physically feel the jury slipping out of his favor.
Drew: I shouldn’t have doubted you, Zane. There’s something about your boy’s eyes…
Tom: Oh god. Does he always look at you like that, Zane? I don’t know how you can handle it. I have to physically hold my crotch to keep myself from coming in my pants.
Taylor: Can we talk about his lips, though? They’re so plump. I couldn’t help but stare at them. He does that cute thing where he chews on his lip when he’s grading.
Oliver: I wonder what he does when his mouth is filled. Zane? Care to give us a hint, please? Or shall we give him a visit and demo for ourselves…?
Zane: Hm, I’ll just say that… (M/N)’s learning very quickly on how to breathe through his nose and relax his throat. Though, that doesn’t stop the noises from coming out of his mouth.
Nico: Always had a thing for nerds… He suck you off with his glasses on or no?
Zane: On.
Drew: Oh, c’mon…
Taylor: Shit. I’m getting hard.
Tom: Fuck. Me too.
Nico: Lucky bastard… It should’ve been me!
Oliver: Never mind. This is so much better than what I could’ve imagined.
Zane laid it all out onto the table for you. His phone was a bar of gold in your hand as you scrolled and read through the messages pertaining you between him and his friends. The more recent the texts were, the more explicit and brazen.
Taylor talked about a dream that he had of you, where you allowed him to kiss you wherever he pleased if he got a question right. This was as innocent it would get. His hand would be shoved into your pants while he would kiss at your neck, licking into your whimpers.
Tom texted about the random hard-ons he’d sport when he was with you. Something as simple as watching you lick your lips was enough to get him off for the night.
Drew daydreamed about you giving him a hand job in the library. The rush of being nearly caught, and the flood of embarrassment blooming on your neck and face resulted him coming within your fist. You’d hover your free hand beneath his cock, to catch the flood of cum, because you were a kind person who didn’t want to make a public mess. And because you were such a kind person, you’d slurp his cum off your palm, right then and there, before Drew’s very eyes.
Nico was the most yearning. Perhaps it was because he always played second fiddle to Zane’s leadership, and that reflected onto his fantasies, but he missed hearing your praises. Praises that consisted of how good he was at solving this problem; how proud you were when he went out of his way to do more problems than what was assigned to him; how nice he felt when he pushed his warm cock inside of you for the first time. You’d overwhelm him with so many compliments, so many kind words, that it wouldn’t take much for him to come inside of you.
Oliver was a brazen man. He spoke without thought, without a filter, and if it came to Zane’s decision, he would want to publish a book full of Oliver’s lewd fantasies about you. He wanted to fuck you. Point blank period. It wasn’t up for debate. He would make you take him in the car if he could. Bent over the backseat, while he pounded into you out in the parking lot, or maybe in the woods if you preferred seclusion. And when he was done with you, he’d leave you there dripping, inhaling another smoke to work up another appetite, as if the image of his cum leaking out of you and down your legs hadn’t strung up his cock like a puppet with every passing second.
“It’s a lot, I know,” Zane’s voice broke you from the spell that was his friends’ fantasies. You blinked rapidly to ward off the explicit images festering. He was reading them with you, the illusions silently feeding you and him simultaneously. “Listen, if you want to call it quits, I understand. But I just—I love… seeing them talk about you like that. It makes me… so proud. Powerful—knowing that they can’t ever lay their hands on you, as long as I’m in the picture.”
“But… you said you were jealous? I don’t understand—” You fidgeted uncomfortably against him. Zane took no mind to it, especially since you seem to be taking the information better than he’d thought, but your constant squirming was beginning to be a cause of concern. He blindly opened his arm for you, allowing you to snuggle into his side.
“Yeah, well… I guess riling your friends up and feeding into their fantasies has some consequences. I like it when they talk about you to me, but… I don’t know, I guess I imagine what they would do to you if you were alone with them and it makes me worried, yet aroused? It’s… confusing, I know. I don’t get it either—Babe, are you okay? You keep moving.“
“No, continue—it’s just—“ you groaned, pressing closer to his side and crossing your legs. “Is that why you’ve been extra affectionate? I mean, you always have been, but I swear, I think we have sex almost every day—or is that normal? Not that I don’t love it. I don’t want you to get tired of me or something.”
“First off, never going to happen. I could never get tired of you. And… it might be normal depending on who you’re asking… Might be our new normal, if I’m being honest. I can’t help that you’re so irresistible—okay, what’s going on—” For a couple more seconds, Zane endured you fiddling with the blanket on your lap before suddenly tugging it off and freeing you of your agony, or whatever was the reason of your constant writhing.
He glanced down at your lap, and your reflex was quick to hide it—whatever was near your pelvis. It was hard seeing you in the dark with the TV and his phone switched off. The moonlight filtered through the blinds on his windows, but it was only enough to highlight parts of your face, not enough to illuminate the entire living room.
Without a warning, Zane reached in between your thighs and frisked whatever that had come into contact with his palm. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden hitch of your breath, feeling nothing but the leather of the couch in his palm—until he moved it higher, toward your lack of an attempt at shielding, and pushed your hand aside.
“Oh,” it didn’t take long to guess what was in the palm of his hand. He could trace the shape of it in his sleep if he was asked to. Write the exact measurements as he recalled numerous nights with you if he was quizzed on it, even if majority of his calculations relied on his grip.
Zane knew you very well, and he especially knew what he was squeezing—gently kneading until those familiar sounds poured out of you like freshly squeezed orange juice.
Ah, there it was.
It was his boy’s cock.
“Don’t get mad—“ you warned, pausing Zane’s kneads with a gentle grasp, but he persisted, only challenging the tightness in your shorts in the end.
“Why would I be mad? You’re not mad?” his voice traveled ticklishly to your ear. He’d pulled you closer, whispering while his hand was all synonyms of tantalizing.
“Is it wrong to say that I’m not? Is this was what you felt like…? I’m confused and horny, and it’s all a mess, Zane…” you groaned when his hand into the leg opening, eagerly reaching for your stiff arousal.
“God, sorry—let’s just… talk about this later. Fuck, come on.”
“Y-yeah, good idea.”
***
“They never heard yours.”
It was cool and lulling—the baby wipe Zane was cleaning you down with. Just when you thought Zane couldn’t have gotten more attractive, the concentrated look on his face while he wiped the sweat and sticky residue off your torso made your flaccid cock twitch, his biceps bulging like they were still strenuous from holding you against the wall a few minutes prior.
Zane raised a curious brow at your vagueness and your renewed arousal altogether before chucking the wipes in a bin and tucking himself to your side. “What do you mean?”
At the advance of his arms around your waist, you turned in your position to face him, pulling him close by the hips. “Your fantasy. They all told you about theirs, but you never did. Just makes me curious… on what yours is?”
Zane pondered, his thumb pondering with him as it chased after an internal beat, a rhythm over your lower back. In the meantime, you surveyed his face, like you always did post-sex. His moles were attractive, his eyebrows and lips deliciously full, and his eyes—beautiful windows to his beautiful soul.
You were the luckiest man on earth.
“You can’t judge me, all right?”
He jolted you back from your studying, an uncertain air emanating from his disposition.
You took his cheek in your hand and squeezed him with assertion. “I would never!”
Your constant kneading made him loosen up. He exhaled deep, looking dubious, but compiled trust into your eyes in the end—because it was just a fantasy, right?
One.
BIg.
Fucking.
Dream.
Finally, Zane confessed.
“Gangbang…”
“Oh…!”
***
Zane didn’t know what to expect. He had to admit that you looked uneasy when he brought up the topic of having a safe word. As basic as it was, the traffic light system was ideal as vanilla as it was, especially for something as daunting as someone’s first gangbang.
Plus, you were getting a little too creative with the safe words.
“What about… peanut butter cup..?” “Eh… think that’s a little too long, babe.” “Ghost!” “You might freak Tom out. He apparently had an ‘apparition’ back at his grandma’s house.” “Sheep?” “Sounds like ‘shit,’ which can be misconstrued as “shit, keep fucking me!"” “Hm… pickle?” “Gross! You know I hate pickles!” “You don’t eat words, Zane!”
As hopeful and convincing Zane could be, the last thing he would’ve thought was you agreeing to this—without much hesitation too, might he add.
“Can you move okay?” Zane stepped aside for you to walk from one end of his bedroom to the other. It wasn’t much distance, but it wasn’t like you needed an ample amount of space to begin with.
You took the open floor to demonstrate your ability to walk. It seemed simple enough. You did it every day. One foot after the other, step by step, leisurely and calmly and—
“Oh—“ you stiffened after the first step and froze in place. One leg methodically moved back and forth to gauge the restrictive mobility. “It feels a little… tight?”
“We can go a size smaller, but it should be a little uncomfortable. Plus, you’re not going to be walking much? Hopefully…” Zane calmly reasoned, maneuvering you like a mannequin. His hand was searching high and low for any physical indications that a butt plug was lodged inside of you—pressing when the flange toy protruded a centimeter more than he had liked.
Your breath hitched and then you shook your head, deciding the size was adequate adequate enough, and resumed walking normally. One couldn’t have noticed any oddities, as long as they ignored the rigidness of your posture.
The feeling came out of the blue—you wanted to impress them. After all, you were the star of the night. Zane’s confession had been simmering in your thoughts for a few days, especially one comment when he described how powerful he felt knowing his friends wanted you, but couldn’t have you.
You wanted to make Zane proud. If the humblest of all brags turned his friends into complete brutes, you couldn’t imagine how they would act when they all have had a turn to explore your body inside and out, and never again. Dogs. Monsters. Yet they’d worship every sovereign step that Zane would take like they were indebted to his graciousness, like they were his men of labor, all for one more night with you again.
You wanted more than to make Zane proud. You wanted to make him feel like a king.
Three knocks at the door, and the long-awaited fantasy was a door away from becoming a reality. You tailed stiffly after Zane, the kiss he quickly granted you before jogging to the entrance like a spell to your pursuit—like a hex to the tension Zane knew all-so-well.
Zane looked back once more, a nod of assurance padded by a bright smile, and you exhaled out the tightness in your chest.
Let the party begin.
***
“Let’s make it… easier for you, babe. Warm you up instead of abruptly starting?”
“Yeah—that sounds fine to me.”
“You’ll spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on can initiate the first step. No more than a minute. Then, you’ll spin the bottle again—second person goes, so-on and so-on. Sound good? More organized that way, right? And you can get a feel of everyone’s… vibes without it being overwhelming. Fellas? Any objections?”
“Sounds good to me, Zane.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeap.”
“Mm-hm.”
“No complaints here.”
The slower the bottle spun, the faster your heart beat. Your eyes moved from one man to the next, as if you were the empty beer bottle itself. The group formed a circle in the middle of the living room, small but enough to accommodate for seven men: You, Zane, Taylor, Oliver, Nico, Tom, and Drew; in that order of the circumference. Other than the guys catching up with you—small talk about your tutoring, their assignments, dinner, new dogs, and whatnot—conversations were kept to a minimum.
All seven of you knew why you were here altogether, and they weren’t keen on drawing it out for any longer.
“You guys just came back from the gym?” Zane asked after taking a sip of his beer. You reached for his bottle, feeling parched, and he passed it to you with a composing grin, lingering to watch your expression sour as the bubbles tickled your throat.
“Yeah—was going to hit the showers, but then we would’ve been late,” Taylor explained, and the rest of the guys nodded in between sips of their beers, comically attentive to the slowing bottle. You took a silent whiff of the heavy musk radiating off of the five men; your dick twitched.
“Oh shit, who’s it gonna be?! First stud of the night!” Tom bowed his body forward and began drumming the floor in faux suspense. You laughed and joined in on the increasing drum rolls, the others including yourself finding his anticipation infectious as laughter spread amongst the group like a virus—the seven pairs of hands drumming on the floor altogether being part of the symptom.
There was nothing to be worried about, was there?
This was going to be fun.
A blast.
A bang.
The bottle slowed, passing pairs of bare feet in its rotation. Multiple postures straightened as if they could compel gravity to direct the bottle towards them, but then Drew’s slumped when it passed him, then Taylor’s, and a domino effect of lost hope was rippled—all except for one.
A chorus of oohs broke out when it stopped on Nico—Zane’s right-hand man. It must’ve been an inside joke between all six of them because Oliver made a comment about how Nico was finally having his moment, and they all erupted into another fit of laughter, cutting the tension in the air one chuckle at a time.
“You’re up!” Zane beckoned with a nod. You took another glance at him, nothing of concern, but rather to alleviate his own worries by the way he suddenly gathered his hold on your hand, and then pecked him on the lips and cheek. He smiled, returning the peck onto your lips before whispering into your ear, “Show ‘em what a lucky man I am.”
“Whew, all right..!” Nico propped himself up with a hop.
Nico made his way towards you and pulled you to the middle of the circle. Even knowing that you read his messages, he still carried that dashing smile like it was a weapon. One that regularly caused destruction on many hearts, one that charged your own like it was a battery—you just now discovered how disruptive dimples could be.
He was a sly man. Two-faced even, and you anticipated to discover this other side of him that he’d been reluctant to show.
“Hi—again,” Nico whispered through a smile. You found it charming how he couldn’t contain his glee. Dimple to dimple, they were like two separate smiles of their own, bracketing the salient beam from widening any further.
You wanted to peek over at Zane when Nico pressed his nose to yours, taunting himself—taunting you with the suspense of his soft-looking lips. But Nico’s hand on your nape was absolute and refusing, holding you like you were a weakening star—his dying wish, and made you fix his eyes on him, as he had done for you all this time. “Sorry you had to find out this way, but… I have a crush on you.”
“No—it’s fine. It’s why we’re here, right?” You braced one hand over Nico’s lap and the other on his broad chest. Sturdy, well-defined muscles graced your palm with every caress.
“Yeah… what a way to reciprocate my feelings…”
Slowly, you felt Nico’s breath warm your lips before they were taken hostage by his pair of reds, mirroring the close of his eyes upon noticing. The room fell to a silence, watching like hawks, closing in between the two bodies for front seating of the kiss.
He started gentle; soft lips moving against softer lips, careful to avoid hitting your glasses, your gasps and his groans filling your mouth with fulfillment. One hand of Nico’s maintained on your nape while the other rested on the small of your back, to pull you closer, to feel the skin hidden beneath polycotton. His hand was warm as he roamed; big as he held at nothing but something all at once; inquisitive as his fingers would occasionally dip into the waistband of your shorts.
The longer it goes on, the harder the kiss was. Nico’s mouth was illusive, now hard and abrasive to train your mouth open, and then stay open as he licked into your mouth and explored with his curious tongue. Your ears perked at an envious comment from one of the guys, but it was quickly hushed following the sound of your moans. Nico wrapped his mouth around your tongue and sucked with ardency, mining any possible sounds out of you like they were Earth’s greatest treasure. Your tongue reeled back in growing desire to tick a kink off of Nico’s bucket list, smooching a few more times on the lips, holding his cheek, and then whispering into his warm mouth with a bated breath as his hand halted its lone venture up the opening of your shorts.
“You’re a great kisser, Nico…”
“Time!”
A timer sang from your side, and a web of spit tailed your lips as you pulled away, letting your gaze linger to catch Nico’s heightened arousal in his eyes before returning to your seat.
“Fuck..,” chuckles spread from man to man when Nico returned, exhaling and shaking all sorts of trembles out of his body. Oliver and Tom aided with hard smacks to Nico’s back, sharing the thrill of the kiss simultaneously.
“Was that okay?” You whispered to Zane, fixing your glasses while the rest of the guys debriefed on Nico’s fulfillment. A collection of comments such as, “I’m fucking jealous…”, “Did you see the way he looked at you? Fucking sexy…”, “God, I hope it’s me next,” made you squirm in your seat.
Your mission from all of this was to make Zane proud, but it wouldn’t hurt if you gifted yourself a slight ego-boost in the meantime, right?
“You did… fucking perfect. I think you’re riling them up—riling me up too, actually,” he muttered, briefly maneuvering your hand to demo the boner in his shorts before returning back to his duties as the host. “Okay, settle down! Babe? Next spin, please? Think the team’s getting a little antsy.”
You surveyed the room again. Nico was subtly pushing down on his crotch while Drew, Tom, and Oliver were casual about it, openly massaging themselves through their shorts, their eyes wandering towards you with repose. If you hadn’t had the decency to look away, you could’ve indulged in their thick prints for a little longer.
But duty called. You reached for the bottle and spun it, bating the men with the suspense of who was going to be next in line in warming you up.
The crown of the bottle stopped parallel to Taylor, who was slouched on his elbows like he’d been expecting it—rigged it with his mind if telekinesis was more than hypothetical. He greeted you with provocation, flashing his brows and a smug smile all at once, then a wink, before joining you in the middle. You always found him intimidating. It was probably those eyelashes of his. They were always fluttering, even when you would go over his notes—he would blink and stare once knowing it was effective enough to render you speechless. As naive as it sounded—it felt like Taylor was adept to anything and everything, including whatever he was about to do to you.
And you were absolutely correct in that hypothesis—because Taylor immediately began stripping you down. It was inevitable, but you didn’t expect all of you to be bared within the second spin.
“Seems like Taylor’s on a mission.” Oliver laughed, catching your briefs and taking a whiff at it before passing it to the group. One by one, you watched each person press their nose to the center of your briefs, and inhale. Comments on the smell of your arousal made your dick twitch again. Harder, when Drew and Oliver engrossed themselves in the fine stain of pre-cum and took multiple lingering whiffs in hounding the sweet musk again. You’d think you laced them with some kind of potion—an elixir that amplified their excitement through every vein in their body, from hands to cock.
From head to toe, your clothes came off and were tossed aside, and you let Taylor’s spirit of inquiry explored as he pleased. Sprawling your arms and legs out like he was frisking you, smacking the back of your thighs like he was a butcher examining the quality of fresh meat. You groaned when he loitered at your naked body, noticing the constellation of goosebumps on your chest to the dimples on your backside—all with a glaze of his hand. Taylor’s fingers followed every contour of your body—from spine to muscle—studying you and the smallest reactions you’d spare him with pleased eyes as he smacked, kissed, smoothed, and licked the canvas that was made of skin and bone. You were a sculpture carved by the Renaissance, and Taylor was a curator, assessing your value through the warmth of his mouth, the slick of his tongue, and the kneads of his hands.
“Oh, what do we have here?” His mouth was on your stomach, closely tending to the warm skin with kisses, while his hand was on your rump, prodding at the plug that had been confined in you for the entirety of the day. “Guys, jackpot. (M/N) came with a surprise.”
“I-it wasn’t my idea—“ Heat rose high to your neck when Taylor turned you around and showed your ass off to the ogling group of men. While he was at it, he mind as well brand you with a price tag—right on your ass cheeks, where Taylor smacked each side once, massaging them with a firm knead, and spread you open.
“Holy shit…” Tom muttered while he stood on his knees, taking in the sight of your plugged hole. You impulsively squeezed your thighs together, covering your growing erection at the marveling shared between the six men. There was a wonder in Zane’s expression, resembling the first time he undressed you before his very eyes.
“You like teasing us, don’t you?” Drew said when your glutes tensed, and the room hummed with the soft susurrus of agreement. “Pretty thick ass too, jesus—“
“Time,” Zane stopped the alarm after a ring, sighing in between kneads to his bulge.
Five of the guys collectively groaned from the cliff-hanger while Taylor gave your hard ass a smack in midst of returning to his seat. “See how considerate I can be? You’re welcome, fellas!”
You jolted, gulping at the budding sting. It was becoming a habit to seek for Zane’s approval after every turn, and fortunately you did—because unbeknownst to Taylor, Zane was staring him down, a furious and annoyed look on his face that quickly simmered when he caught your gaze.
“Spin, please.”
The next stop was Tom—Eager Tom. He’d been making comments on your body since he stepped foot inside the apartment, so it was expected that his turn would be based on personal whims. Although, you reckoned that the plug inside of you turned the tides.
Making you kneel on all fours, Tom slowly twisted the plug in and out of you while the group gathered from behind and intimately watched. You clenched at the base, stifling your groans into the back of your hand upon the group’s growing fascination with the sight of your swelling pucker.
“Fuck, look at that pretty rim…” Oliver mumbled, and Tom took it as a hint to trace the border of your hole with his finger, lone yet devious.
“If it looks that appetizing, imagine how it tastes,” Drew covertly suggested.
Tom hummed in thought while toying thoughtlessly with your hole—into your hole. “Not much of an ass-eater, maybe I should hand that task off to someone more capable… What do you think, (M/N)?”
“P-please… anyone is fine—”
As the tip neared its exit, you desperately held onto the last bit of latex that kept you from baring it all—thighs vibrating from the difficulty, toes curling as Tom screwed—but your muscles were as weak as Tom’s patience, and you naturally gave into his tortuous wrenching, clamming up him when he suddenly plunged the plug back into you, then completely bloomed—when Tom finished you off with a tyrannical yank.
“O-oh, god!” You yelped loud as you bared yourself for the group. Deep waves of heat trampled over your body and swam into every course of vein as one person after the other, from Tom to Drew to Nico to Oliver to Taylor to Zane, moaned in chorus at the sight of your budding insides.
Your chest laid flat on the floor, your glasses tossed and forgotten, your hips and ass raised high, your cock throbbed towards the floor—you suddenly buckled your hips when you felt a wad of spit launched directly at your blinking hole.
Then another, and another, and then three consecutive more, until your hole felt completely, and utterly drenched—one from every man you presumed as you laid there, writhing and dripping.
“Fuck, so pretty when it’s glistening like that,” Tom groaned. You could hear fabrics moving, see clothes coming off when you peeked from your position, and your cock throbbed at the smallest glimpse of Tom’s naked body, followed by Oliver’s, and then so on.
“Time,” Zane said again, then a second later rescinded his announcement, rubbing an affectionate hand over your back for you to look up. “Actually, fuck this—baby, you’re okay with us starting now? I don’t think we can handle it anymore… yeah?”
“Y-yeah, no—I can’t wait any longer—oh!” Suddenly, you felt something wet breach your hole. Unrelenting in its expedition as it flicked and wiggled the group’s load of spit inside of you, sliming you up from inside and out.
“Sorry, (M/N). Drew hasn’t had dinner yet—come on, up and at ‘em,” Oliver steered you back on all fours with a rough pull to your shoulders, and knelt himself before you. He pushed your hair back once, admiring the sweat beading over your hairline, the increasingly dismayed look on your face when someone—Taylor—spread and smacked your ass apart for Drew to lick and devour inside you completely. “And neither have you. Open.” You couldn’t even hesitate as Oliver worked at lighting pace. He hooked his thumb into your mouth, pulled it open, spat a thick load of spit where your tongue deftly caught it, and pushed his thick cock into your mouth—all in one neck-braking motion.
“Fuck…” Oliver moaned at the warmth of your mouth. His eyes rolled, but the sight of your lips wrapped around his veiny dick was holier than the overhead lights spotlighting you from above, so he did his best to maintain his composure, working your mouth open with the girth of his cock—slow and steady.
At least Oliver was generous enough to not shove himself down the back of your throat, but still—your throat spasmed nonetheless when he shoved himself deeper with a tug to your nape. Upon the hit to your throat, you abruptly pushed him out with your tongue and a gag, launching into a coughing fit.
“Loosen up on him, will you? He bruises easily,” Zane muttered, noticing Oliver’s fingers turning eggshell-white upon taking your name in his hand. Although, that didn’t stop Zane’s hand from fisting his cock. If anything, it pulsed merrily at the sound of your throat resisting.
“He’ll use his safe words, right? You’re fine? Tell me if you need a break,” As much as Oliver was large and imposing, his body a thick and study mass akin to Zane’s, his eyes were made of sugar. An uncanny color for those soluble carbohydrates, but it was fitting, considering your body melted from the way he looked fondly at you and petted at your cheek. “Pretty.”
“I-I’m fine…” You said with a bated breath and nodded to Oliver with assurance. Then again, when Zane’s hand pushed your hair back and remained on the crown of your head. “I’m fine. Promise.”
“I know. I trust you.” He bent down to soothe the swell of your lips with a lingering kiss before delivering a smack to your ass and pulling away with a renewed disposition. “Suck his cock like how you suck mine. Properly, this time.”
“Fuck—“ Your body propelled forward from the never-ending feast on your puckering hole. Out of curiosity, you peered over your shoulder and instantly found yourself regretting it. It was unavoidable. Your cock leaking in agony, watching Nico, Taylor, and Drew take turns at licking stripes over your hole. Hungry animals.
On Drew’s turn, he caught your gaze in midst of his licks and came to a sudden halt. He then widened his tongue over your crack and with a leaden pace, laved his tongue over your crease like he was cleaning the last bit of crumbs off his plate, smug and teasing in his scheme to make you break.
“No more distractions, yeah? That’s not the way you treat your boyfriend’s friends.” A grappling hook to your nape tore your eyes back to your front, and your mouth was instantly filled again with the heavy weight of Oliver’s musky cock. Your hands were braced on the floor, clutching at nothing but the installed security of wood panels, as Oliver rocked into your mouth. Your cheeks hallowed progressively, adapting to the stretch of your mouth when he tested the depth of your throat numerous times before finally committing and sinking his cock into the back of your mouth, into your throat, with one gratified push.
“Good boy. Hold it, hold it, don’t move. Just relax…” Zane heartened by your right side, reaching in between your legs and fondling with your cock as he’d been doing with his own. Upon the welling of tears, you clamped your eyes shut for comfort, and nearly choked back on your own spit, impulsively squeezing around Oliver’s cock.
“Oh, shit… holy fuck, guys.” Tom was marveling at your left. You peeked your eyes open and caught a glimpse of his hand spit-shining his long, veiny cock, twisting deliciously eager over his plump glans near your temple, the sticky sound of his spit loud and clear in your ear. “Jesus, Zane wasn’t lying when he said you could take dick like no other.”
Oliver’s balls were pressed flush to your chin, your mouth was stuffed into the unshaven hairs of his pubic area, your nostrils was flared from arousal at the salty scent of the dried sweat within vicinity, and your throat was plugged with a glorious amount of thick and heavy cock.
“There we go, that’s it. Good,” Oliver moaned, tenderly massaging your nape while cutting off the supply of oxygen at the same time. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Doing everything we want, huh?”
“Mmfgh!” Your moans muffled in the cramming of his swollen cock as Oliver began patting and squeezing your cheeks, tightening the suction of your mouth by curling his body overhead, and simply pushing deeper.
Swelling harder, throbbing, the longer you endured. You’d learned how to breathe through your nose when it came down to this, but you still had difficulties relaxing your tongue. It wasn’t surprising when ample amounts of saliva began leaking out of your mouth. More spilled out when Oliver pulled you back a centimeter, only for the course of action to halt with another plunge of his cock, somehow sinking deeper down your throat.
“Think he can fit another one?” Nico halfheartedly joked, the last one to crawl over and join the group in their sight-seeing. His cock was hard, veins bulging in a way that made you delirious because Oliver alone was enough to make you overwhelmed in the best way possible.
You couldn’t possibly imagine another cock lodged in.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, right, babe?” Zane tugged on your cock harder. He pulled at your balls, thumbed the piss-slit, and stroked your shaft with the pre-cum that had been dripping in solitude. “So wet, you’re so fucking wet from being used like this.”
Finally, you were graced with the precious taste of air. Oliver slowly pulled his dick from the depth of your throat, and the group moaned at the sight of your throat simultaneously deflating from its bulge.
Your throat was sore, but it was worth it. Moving your eyes from one man to another, it was finally registering what a dream this was. All of them were exceptionally fit with sweat proudly highlighting their training. All of them sported deliciously thick erections with multiple sights of pre-cum dripping like molasses to taunt you. What was more important was that all of their eyes were on you—something as minuscular as a blink would set them off, and they’d restart the non-existent staring battle between you and the group again.
They were as breathless as you were, and your heart was pumping with the sickening volume of their cocks being cordially stroked, their pecs and biceps brawny and bouncing from the exhilaration you’d been supplying them.
It was fucking worth it.
Under Zane’s conducting, the team flipped you onto your back, cushioning your body with multiple throw pillows, and surrounded themselves around you again, where you could properly watch them pleasure their cocks with the lube Zane had distributed as they kneeled over you. Then, Taylor made the decision for himself to slot his body beneath you, embracing you from behind and using his arms around you to hold your legs and hips back, positioning his freshly lubed cock near your hole.
“You smell good,” Taylor commented at the scent of your cologne, kissing madly into your neck as he found the source. You gulped, feeling him staring again through those eyelashes of his. With one hand, he turned your cheek to face him, his lips nearing and over yours, but never meeting. Lingering, breathing, gazing, indulging—you both surveyed each other’s features. Watching your soft but swollen lips, watching his sharp but pleading eyes. He pushed himself in without as much of a warning—and then watched the enlightened expression on his face, the immense rapturing of yours. For a moment, you swore you could’ve seen something other than lust in Taylor’s eyes, but he punctuated the delusions straight out of you with an unbearable thrust, and you never looked back. You gasped at the girth of his cock stretching you out, and his breath hitched at the spontaneous clenching your tight hole was bestowing him. “Fuck…”
You breathed out a whimper, and your parted mouth was immediately seized with the taste of Tom’s thick cock as he kneeled over your body and thrusted himself selfishly down your throat. Deeper, when Tom found your gags to be indecently enticing and feeding into his cock veins.
To make everything all the more dizzying, your hands were taken and wrapped around a pair of throbbing cocks; Zane and Nico’s in your left, Drew and Oliver in your right. Every contact point on your body, from Taylor’s dick pressing deep inside of you, to Tom’s succulent cock bulging your cheek, to Zane, Nico, Oliver, and Drew rubbing against their respective partner and fucking into your closed fist, burned.
“You love being full of cock, don’t you? Look at you… pleasuring the six of us at once. Come on, use your mouth. Suck Tom off, you can do it,” Taylor mouthed at your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickling you, and then a complimentary bite to your shoulder—making your pulse run high. His grasp on the back of your raised thighs was warring as he used his core to beat his thick cock inside of you and pummel you open.
You cried around Tom’s cock, Taylor’s balls slapping your taint with every exhilarating thrust and feeding into your indulgence. Tom was noble. You already had enough on your plate; stroking two thick cocks per hand and enduring Taylor’s aggressive fucks. The intricate position you were in made it more difficult for you to suck him off, so Tom took matters into his own hands, and used your mouth as he pleased. His hands were behind his head as if they could stabilize the swimming lewd thoughts. You peeked at the utter state of bliss he was in, and your cock throbbed at the sight of his body. His chest full, his pits trimmed, his built expertly trimmed with fine and intricate muscles, especially so whenever he sunk in his stomach and flexed from the heat of your throat. You were salivating not only because the taste of Tom’s cock was so delightfully salty, but also because you were surrounded by such gorgeous men—a heaven of greek gods.
You felt reborn.
The kiss is all-consuming when Tom pulled himself out to press his lips against yours, making you sit up on Taylor’s lap. When his tongue pried your mouth open effortlessly, electricity shot down your spine, only for it to sear back up with the vicious pounding Taylor was giving you. “You taste like my dick, you like that?” Tom inhaled every ounce of breath you dispelled into his mouth. Broken sounds of whimpers and moans, a confusing yet compatible elixir that Tom drank up, and poured it back down your throat when he licked deeper into your mouth. He licked and nipped at your lips, tangled your tongue with his, and stole your breath with the eagerness of his mouth on yours that hadn’t seem to be faltering.
Heat flushed through your veins when each person took a turn to your mouth. The straddling position allowed the group to enclose themselves around you, the air thickening and weighing heavier than the swing of their cocks. Five heavy dicks surrounded your face while Taylor’s continued to swell beneath you, turning you inside and out as his hands on your hips hardened. It was an insoluble dilemma of your sexual appetite. You were starving for something to fill your mouth, but who—was the dilemma you were faced with.
“So big, fuck—“ You caught yourself drooling at the sight of their cocks dripping for you.
You behaved like a wanton, catching Oliver’s pre-cum with your tongue before sucking hard on Zane’s cock, then simultaneously stroking Drew and Nico over your shoulders ardently. The smell of Tom’s and Oliver’s salty cocks rubbing over your face made you vigilant and heightened your arousal to a crescendo. Eagerly, you replaced Zane’s cock with the two men, and moaned when the uncomfortable stretch they had provided made you stiffen around Taylor’s shaft.
“Shit, I’m going to—“ Taylor warned, his large hand splayed on your sweaty lower back while he wallowed in the confines of your walls, squeezing and clamping around his bristling cock.
Your mouth was stretched, saliva dripping from either corners of your lips, the crown of their dicks thick enough to shut your trap without so much as touching your throat. The wonderful sounds of their moans made the strain on your jaw well-worth the ache you were surely going to feel the effects from tomorrow onwards.
“Taking two cocks at once—never seen that before, Christ…” There was a vacant space in the middle of your mouth. Tilting your chin up, Oliver pushed a wad of spit into the opening—smug as he watched it fall into the void, somewhere in the back of your throat.
“He’s a horny little thing, isn’t he?” Tom followed in Oliver’s steps, spitting inside of your mouth. Two people were enough to set off a chain reaction as the rest of the group quickly joined. Nico, Drew, and Zane added their own shipment to the pooling spit haul, and they all watched in awe when you relaxed your tongue and let it drain into the back of your throat as one load.
The dehumanizing exploitation of your body turned sweat into goosebumps, and you were eager to be covered in welts by the time you were done.
Your entire body lit up at the attention the men were giving you. Taylor fucked you harder, his hands bruising on your body. Nico and Drew occupied the sloppy void that was your mouth when Tom pulled out to join Zane in kissing your flushed neck, and Oliver tended to your abandoned cock with his hand, stroking and twisting your knob. You choked on the two cocks as they attempted to fuck your mouth. It was a constant collision on your tongue and cheeks, where loads of spit pooled and dripped for a messy bustle, and you wouldn’t let them out of your mouth until Taylor delivered one strong thrust, and emptied himself inside of you. The sudden launch of his cum erupting inside made you pull away with a bated breath and moan, your body writhing as he flooded your insides.
“Fuck!” He shouted from behind you, clawing into your inner thighs while your ass was pumped with the warmth of his thick cum. Warm spurts continued to paint you from the inside as Taylor resumed his hips for a few more seconds, dumping every seed that he could push out deep inside of your violated hole, until his sack was emptied.
“Don’t let it leak out,” Drew hoisted you off of Taylor’s limp and recovering body, and pushed you back onto all fours, your head in between Taylor’s legs. “—and clean him up. Not a drop wasted, got it?”
“M-mm, yeah—fuck!” When you began licking at the underside of Taylor’s softening cock, your hole was back to being occupied again with the hung curve that was Drew’s dick. He didn’t waste a single second in making you squirm. With both hands tucked into your pelvis, Drew used your body as leverage while fucking madly into you.
“Fuck—look at you, you’re creaming all over my dick,” the sounds were delectable. Soft and creamy with every thrust Drew delivered to your ass—you felt some cum splatter onto your back from how hard he was fucking into you. As much as your asscheeks stung from the way his thighs clapped against your flesh, you were relishing every second of it with Taylor’s cock in your mouth, languidly swiveling your tongue and lapping up remnants of his seed until he was pristine.
The rough spanking marked you as Drew’s in the moment. You felt guilty for thinking it, but it was placed in good faith. HIs palm seared your stinging ass, reminding you to tend to the others. You do, your vision blurry and hazy, but you took whatever cock wanted to enter your mouth. Tom’s, Oliver’s, Nico’s, then Zane’s—they all tasted incredible and if you were allowed to, you could see yourself coming right then and there—simply from sucking cock—cocks.
You thrived in rough hands. Drew’s, Zane’s—anyone’s. Your skin throbbed when Zane and Nico slapped your cheeks with their cocks, and your asshole spasmed when Drew sealed himself within you, pushing every drop of seed until he slumped over the curve of your back, toppling you onto the ground with his weight. Even then, he pushed into your squirms, his cock buried deep into your ass, refusing to pull himself away from the sickening pleasure.
“Up and at ‘em, (M/N). Not done yet,” Oliver smiled and pulled you onto your feet, positioning himself behind you.
“Fuck—Zane…” You called out to him, bracing yourself on the arm of his couch as your muscles were still stirring awake from their sleep.
He approached you, quick in his steps, immediately tending to your non-existent wounds. His fingers through your hair, his hand over your cheeks. “What—you’re okay? What do you need? Too much? Fuck—Drew, I told you to go easy on—”
“N-no, no! I’m okay—fuck, I—I love this… so much… So much cum inside of me, god—” You were in a dreamlike state, drunk on the lights overhead you were mistaking for stars. Reality blurred even more when you felt Oliver take your wrists with one strong hold, holding them over your back, and pushed himself inside of you with one strong thrust. “Fuck!”
“Loosen up, dude. Your boy’s enjoying it—see? Taking our cocks like it’s a fucking olympic sport,” Oliver cruelly laughed, ignoring the twisting of Zane’s face as he focused on the absolute bliss on your face, holding you parallel to his body, to the sharp thrusts he catapulted upwards into your sloppy hole. “All the cocks that’s been inside of you, but you’re still so fucking tight. You going to loosen anytime soon? Hm? Too much of a slut to let that happen, right? I know you feel me in your guts, (M/N). You look fucking beautiful taking my dick so effortlessly.”
Drips of cum were leaking out of you. You could feel it trailing from your creamy hole, then down to the back of your slick tensed thighs as Oliver fucked you while standing.
Unlike Drew, Oliver didn’t need to brand you with hard spanks to your body. His hammering cock was enough, hollowing you with ease, the crown assaulting your sweet spot with ease—everything Oliver did was with ease, and it was further aided as you let yourself go limp. He fucked you bent over the arm of the couch, then when he had enough, you were back to being fucked standing. His arms looped around your pits, then interlocked behind your neck in support of his thrusts. His cock was ruthless in your ass, spearing and ruining your hole for anyone else to come after him. Your tender hole was brutally stretched around his swelling cock, your body burning up from the hold he was restraining your body with. Oliver whispered praises for your endurance, kisses you on the neck, then the shell of your ear for providing him a pleasure that would be the blueprint for the rest of his hook-ups. He straightened his knees, pushing himself balls deep into you, and in one long groan from his gut, spilled deep inside of you.
“Bet you feel so full, don’t you? Fuck…” Oliver grabbed his dick at the base and squeezed the remaining spurts inside of you before pulling out, flicking any remnants of cum over your bruised ass cheeks.
You moaned for him. The third load in your ass, and your heart was aching because you were another man closer to concluding the night.
It was open, dripping in cum, and then immediately seized when Nico pulled you onto his lap to join him on the couch. You felt like a rag doll—pulled, tossed, and thrown however one was pleased to treat you. As long as your hole was still functioning and remained at their disposal, neither of the men had any complaints about marking your body with a few scuffs.
Nico faced you to the group, your back planted against him. You whimpered when your tired limbs were hoisted once again as he hooked his arms under your knees, and then raised your legs up to position your dripping hole over his cock. Your hole had become a luscious swell of gape. The group marveled at the sight of your puffy rim, beautifully creamed by the pleasure of Taylor, Drew, and Oliver respectively.
“Holy shit, he’s fucking hollowed out…” Tom muttered, stroking himself to the sight of your insides blooming for everyone to see.
“Shit’s getting me horny again,” Taylor laughed, tugging on his flaccid cock, his body still recovering from the high he had inflicted upon himself moments prior.
Supporting your body with his arms, Nico raised your legs higher, bending them back until your knees hovered near your temples, and then locked his hand around your neck to hold you in place. Your mouth fell agape at the stretch of your muscles, and heat spread throughout your body as the group watched Nico’s cock breach your opening with a slow shove, pushing the leak of cum back inside of your guts.
Your hands trembled as you guarded your position on the couch upon Nico folding you back and feasting on your insides with his length. You felt Nico’s thighs tense, pushing up into you with all his might while your gaze locked with Zane’s. He gulped at the unholy sight of your hole being raptured—hungrily being excavated with Nico’s throbbing tool. Nico’s cock was covered in the recent load stuffed inside of you, an increasing sheen the more he fell into a rhythm, and rutted into you aimlessly, chasing after his fill. He slid in and out of you easily, the ample amount of cum replacing any need for to renew his dick with lube.
You and Nico panted in union. His heavy cock stretched you open, and Nico apologized with a blistering kiss to your shoulder, as if fucking you couldn’t be the apology itself. When you alternated your gaze to Tom, he looked almost predatory. Eager like he had always been, but something internal was running thin—Tom’s patience. He scooted closer, watching you take Nico’s fat cock with scalding envy. While your hole took the screwing, Tom caressed the rim of your asshole. You were loose enough for what he wanted to do to you. Carefully, Tom pressed one finger against the underside of Nico’’s cock, and you choked back on your moans, throwing your head back at the sudden tightness as Tom slipped a finger inside of you. Nico continued rocking, occasionally slowing to accommodate Tom as he worked three fingers inside of you.
“T-Tom, that’s too much—“
“But it feels good though, right? You seem to like it when it’s too much.”
Spitting on his own cock, Tom massaged the layer of lube in before lining himself with your occupied opening. Your eyes widened in stupefied anticipation—in arousing fear—yet you brought your hands over to spread your ass cheeks for him, for Tom to force his cock into your body alongside Nico’s length, and you cried with the double breach.
“M-mmfgh! Fuck…!” You cried out, your eyes rolled in the sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible as Nico and Peter began moving in opposite rhythms.
“Fuck, Tom—your dick feels so good against mine, holy crap—“
With an animalistic groan, you pushed your ass out, greedily taking the two cocks into your gut despite the uncomfortable stretch signaling for you to stop and rethink about this decision unfolding before your very eyes.
Not long after, Nico and Tom pumped their hips in harmony, filling you over and over. Cum would trickle out from Tom joining, but he was quick to pull himself back out and scoop it back inside of you with a deep plunge that made the three of you reduce yourselves to nothing but guttural moans. You felt Nico’s body tense beneath you, coercing your own to tighten at the core.
Holding your thighs, Tom pushed into you to the hilt while Nico followed suit. They shuddered with ecstasy, growling like wild beasts from the natural impulse to clamp your sloppy hole around them. Their cocks were rubbing against one another, harder, faster, as they fucked themselves inside of you, opening you more than you had thought was imaginable at a relentless pace. You mewled, collapsing back onto Nico’s hold as your body rocked from the powerful thrusts as if you were caught in a tide.
You felt your own cock throb at this, balls tightening and stroking your cock to the sound of Nico in your ear and Tom at your lips, panting into your mouth in between messy kisses. You were wrecked, completely and utterly ruined as they rocked their shafts into you in opposite strides now. One would hit your sweet spot while the other pulled himself out to renew that fresh stretch of your rim again as they pushed with conviction. Between labored breaths, you searched for Zane over Tom’s shoulder, your heart beating faster and faster as he seemed to be mesmerized by the display of your sheer dedication in following in on your promise to make him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.
Faster. Harder. Deeper. In a matter of seconds, you all came together. Your body spasmed and writhed between their own twitching, your hole clenched around the erupting cocks, your own dick throbbed and spurted out creamy ropes onto your body. Their hips were unrelenting, frothing the thick cum sent deep into your crevices with writhing and swollen flesh, and you slumped, Nico’s released hold relieving your muscles as your body shifted back and forth from the two cocks milking themselves until their shafts softened.
At the thought of Zane—the last man that you would be taking—your position came to you unbidden. Scrolled over the arm of the couch again, you felt comforted by the ample leg room, stretching your muscles for the final act while Zane prepared himself behind you, laving his cock over your crevice, submerging himself in the wetness that your raw hole was dripping out. You were depraved of touch—Zane’s touch—you barely spent a minute with him in between stationing yourself with every men. All except him.
“They did a real number on you…” Zane muttered in your ear. His left hand caressed the tense muscles in your back before joining his right in steering you by the shoulders, his grip clutching a bruising shade into your skin. “Suddenly I don’t matter anymore, hm? You only call me over to show yourself off—showing off that dripping hole of yours.” Unsolicited moans drew out of you with the push of Zane’s hips, fitting his cum-covered cock over your crevice, as a way to soothe the swelling of your puffy rim, but also to ridicule your newfound addiction. “Showing off what was mine—that has now been ruined by five other fucking men. Fuck, I saw the way you were looking at them. All of them. You reek of them too, fucking slut.” He deliberately pressed his swollen cockhead to your ring of muscle, swirling and tracing the circumference, only to move back a centimeter and slide himself right by, pressing his shaft against you instead.
You whimpered, circling your hips back for more of Zane, to apologize to him with the warmth of your hole, to make up for your lack of attention towards him by letting him milk himself inside of you—like you’d done for the others. “I-I’m sorry—Zane, please—“ Your breath hitched when Zane wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you against his imposing chest, arching you forward.
“So, you want my cock now? Five dicks weren’t enough? You need mine to feel satisfied? Face the group. Tell them how much you love my cock,” squeezing your cheek, he forced your head to turn to his friends. They stirred in their seats, their hands back to fisting their erections again.
“I-I love Zane’s cock… I love the way he fucks me—no—the way he makes love to my hole, the way he fills me up to the brim with his thick cum, the way he milks himself and breeds me. I love that he takes his time with me, s-shows me that I’m more than just a doll for fucking,” With the way you were looking; panting from the amount of dick you had taken for the past hour, sweating from the thickened sex in the air, dripping from the loads that marked their battle claim on you; you evoked a fever that spread from one end of the circle to the other. One by one, they gathered closer, inhaling the scent of your arousal—their sex, their seed deeply embedded into your body like you had no other choice but to use them as cologne.
“I-I love that he fucks me—like he loves me,” you peeked over your shoulder to look back at him with groveling gratitude. Was it a mistake to admit this for the first time? In this moment? Where it was confessed to the public, rather than solely to Zane? Your heart raced, and Zane was well-aware as he pacified you with doting affection on your chest, roaming his free hand over the plane, tweezing your perky nipples while his other hand at your throat maintained. You brought a hand up to hold his nape, to hold you close to you because—you’d been separated from your boyfriend for far too long. You were malfunctioning, throwing yourself to every man who wanted to please you and that swollen hole of yours, and you needed Zane to ground you back to him.
And ground you he did—Zane humbled you in the process, evidently satisfied with your short monologue as the kiss he honored you with was deep and enthralling. He poured all sorts of emotion in your mouth, explored it with his tongue in midst of tucking his feelings inside of you, muttered incoherent words of affection while he was drunk on your breath feeding his lungs with life.
“I love you,” he tucked the confession into the shell of your ear and punctuated his returning feelings with one sharp charge of his thrust. The previous loads within you permeated—saturated deep into your flesh—as Zane congested your guts with his large cock, making you wail on his slow, but bellicose hips. “I. Love. You.” Zane repeated in your ear, following up with every one of his thrusts. His cock was methodical inside of you. Screwing what was loose, tightening your walls like his cock was a hammer to secure you around his girth. You felt yourself tip-toeing the floor, the thrusts catapulting your body from Zane’s strength, but there was not a second where you didn’t feel safe. His hold on you—driving into you with his cock, restricting your limbs while he showered you with the most heart-fluttering compliments—he was your sanctuary, the holiest of all places, and you felt revived.
He had his hand over your throat, vaulting your moans with a clamp, pushing you back onto your heel, but as soon as he came up again and delivered those rapturing thrusts, you returned to your natural stance on your tip-toes. You struggled to make sounds—loud mewls and whimpers that proved how absolutely fulfilling you felt in the moment. Your throat was sore and dry, and your body was exhausted and could only endure Zane for so long. You fell limp in Zane’s arms, tensing at the right moments where he penetrated your prostate. It was the unsolicited answer to your body malfunctioning.
The roll of your eyes, the spasming of your asshole, the gape of your mouth as silent moans thickened the air—you and Zane bonded as one. Your ass pushed back to meet his thrusts, creating an electrifying wave of thunderous sounds of sweaty and sticky skin clapping against each other. You felt your body ripple from Zane’s power, from his devotion to forge your hole to the shape of his cock, from his desperate need to tell you that he loved you with more than just his words. You felt every inch of him through your gut. Bent over the arm of the couch, your sweat dripped onto the leather while he fucked you against it, your skin chafing abrasively. Your knees constantly collided with the furniture, but you were too far gone, completely lost in a cycle of Zane’s affection that you didn’t realize your chin was being held up by Drew, jerking his cock over your face.
You blinked rapidly to ward off exhaustion and before you could comprehend the line forming behind him, your face was propelled with thick flying ropes of cum. Drew spilled all over you with a moan, aiming wherever, but mostly at the center. He shot at you hard, feeling himself splatter from your lips, then to your hair.
It happened rapidly, Zane’s hips seemingly quickening to sync with the group’s thunder-paced wrists. Taylor was the next person in line, pumping his hairy cock to the sight of Drew’s cum dripping off of your nose from the vigor force Zane was pummeling you from behind. With a deep grunt and a push of his hips, Taylor emptied his heavy sack, adding onto the layers of cum on your face.
You’ve seen it in the videos you’d watched. It was no good letting their hard-work go to waste. You tipped your head back and Tom helped, resting his hand at your hairline while he stroked his cock over the stains on your face. Again, he was another man to blow another thick load onto your face. Before he left, he made sure to wipe himself clean on your neck, embellishing you with his gratitude.
Then came Nico; the massive amount of loads on your face pooled as you patiently waited for his second high. Your vision was screwed, trying to peer through the cum dripping down your eyelids, but eventually you had to settle on shutting your eyes and anticipate blindly. Within seconds, you heard Nico grunt and moan, followed by another spillage onto your face. He aimed directly at your mouth, where you missed the first unforeseen shot, but quickly adapted and opened your mouth to hold his seed. The salty taste on your tongue bloomed, and whoever’s cum was trailing from the bridge of your nose, past your philtrum and into your open mouth was even saltier, making you writhe as the shudders were uncontrollable when you swallowed.
Finally, Oliver stepped up and amused himself to the heavy decoration weighing down on your face. Stroking his cock, he also played with the cum, dipping the crown of his cock into someone else’s load, scooping a white thread was dangling off your jaw and into your mouth, wiping your eyelids clean with his glans—because he wanted you to see this. He wanted you to watch him come on you with immense pride, to watch him pump the study veins in his thick cock as he indulged at the sight of your pretty eyes surrounded by the four prior men’s fulfillment. With gritted teeth, Oliver groaned from the depth of his gut and released his seed all over you. The group saved the largest load for last. Your eyes immediately clenched following one thick splatter to your lid, then the other, blurring your vision and stinging your eyes once again as Oliver targeted painting you from all corners of the face, including the ones he had helped wipe clean. He squeeze the last remaining seed, and flicked it onto your lips, groaning from the sudden sensitivity in his cock.
“Shit… you look so—” Zane groaned from behind you. He couldn’t stop marveling at it; the unholy sight of your face snowed under an ample amount of cum. The scent of the group’s sex drifted in the almost still air, and Zane ached inside of you.
You can feel the warmth emanating from his study body when he pushed his weight onto you, fucking into you harder and igniting the burn in your thighs. Peeking from one eye, your head was turned to where Zane claimed his rightful place on your lips again. His eyes flashed with hunger at the taste of someone’s cum dripping into your mouth, so he kissed harder, molding your hole to his cock and hammering into you at a breath-taking pace. There were multiple passageways the various pool of mixed semen were taking on your face. A web dangled off your cheek, a trail dripped in pursuit of the kiss, a wet clump was smushed between Zane’s nose and yours; you and Zane were a sloppy mess, and you both were baptized by the scent, the taste, and the feeling of it all.
You were gorgeous, your delicate state only adding to your appeal. One more look at you, and Zane grunted low. He reached between your thighs with his hands, so hard it hurt, and he was wild and strong, fucking into you madly while knocking your breath into a state of stasis. His hips smacked against your ass, faster and faster, and your body was up in flames. Every thrust felt punishing, like he wanted to condemn you for seducing him—for loving him—but if this was punishment, you needed to find more ways to anger him, to love him.
You whimpered into his growls, his firm hands pulled you impossibly closer by the thighs, clutching and fucking you back onto his cock, as he raptured himself into you. He stroked the inside of your mouth, his tongue feeling fat and warm, savoring the taste of salty seed on your tongue, and he groaned into you once more. He grunted and growled like an animal, powered by the group watching in awe, the ravenous noise reverberating through your guts, and you feel the eruption of cum dousing your flesh, deep in your guts, his large cock pulsating in you.
The pleasure hit you like a lightning bolt. Your thighs shook, your hole spasmed, and you rut against his swelling cock, pleasured and soothed by the warmth and thickness of his steaming cum. His release had him quivering against your back, his face tucked inside the crook of your neck while he rocked slowly, breeding you.
“So good, you’re so fucking good…” Zane muttered weakly, panting and mouthing against the back of your ear.
“So full—“ you groaned at the heavy weight of dick in you, then hissed when Zane bucked his hips once more, kissing the crown of his cock to the mouth of your prostate, as if it was a reminder for you that he owned you.
Obscene noises came from his cock plunging your ass with cum—more cum, as you struggled to contain another load, and felt it drip down to your ankles. You sighed, taking it all in—taking Zane in—and slumped over the arm of the couch, heaving a euphoric sigh of relief, relishing in the high-yielding pleasure that was Zane’s cock, dazzling by the lights above you—the stars.
“You guys okay?” laughing at the group’s sudden exhaustion, Zane refused to pull away from you. His hands curled around your hips, then carefully maneuvered himself to lie on the couch with him, still buried to the root of your hole.
“Better than a smoke,” Drew yawned, rubbing his large hand over your ankle by virtue of exceeding his expectations. Nico petted at your head, the spent look on your face charming when you turned towards him and weakly smiled. Tom and Oliver were quiet, still recovering from their orgasm. When you caught their gaze, they held up their thumb once before plummeting back onto the floor.
“Fuck, man—you were great,” Taylor slumped against the foot of the couch, limbs sprawled from the exhaust of muscles, but he joined in on the caressing of your leg, squeezing at your calf, nearly rendering you to sleep.
One by one, the group fell to a silence, a gentle slumber despite the hardwood floors forewarning a few of them of a back ache the next morning. You watched peacefully, the caressing of your body slowly coming to a halt, and then looked back at Zane, collapsed onto your back, drifting into sleep with the gentle snores near your ear.
Hopefully by morning—Zane would tell you that you fulfilled on your promise.
He was the luckiest man alive.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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Danny is desperately running away. Not from a robber, they’re not much of a threat to him anyways, but from a really intense Batman.
“Oh my ancients,” he muttered as he sprinted away from the dude swinging above him. “Can you please go away?! I already paid you back, dude!” Danny raised his voice at the swooping figure above him. He wished he could go ghost, but that would break his cover so fast as a “meta” or whatever.
“Stop running,” Batman landed in front of him, growl reverberating around them.
“Stop chasing me then! It’s bad manners!” And Danny’s from the midwest, so that’s an actual concern.
“How did you find Two-Face?” Batman loomed before stepping back when Danny’s shoulders curled inwards.
“Oh. Is that what this is all about?” Danny huffed. “It was self defense! And… the pun was too good to not, you know? Yeah, no, I had to. Prime opportunity.”
The cowl might hide it but Danny always knew when people are doing that nose pinch of exasperation. It’s a talent he carefully cultivated through shenanigans and puns.
Batman? Definitely inwardly pinching the bridge of his nose.
“How did you find him? Harvey Dent is a dangerous criminal.”
“In my defense,” Danny started, like a teenager caught guiltily shoving the entire cookie jar into his room instead of leaving some for the rest of the family. “He found me first. Well, no, he found the kids first. He started it!”
Batman somehow raised an eyebrow. How the hell does he do that?? The cowl covered the entire upper half of his face! Danny squinted at him. Is Batman a meta?
“Listen, I didn’t start it, but my sister sure as heck taught me how to end it. It’s not my fault Dent couldn’t handle a beat down. And I told you I was gonna pay you back for that one (1) Big Dent! If you wanted cash, you should have said so!”
“Hrm.”
Maybe it was the fancy gear. Maybe it was the pointy head thing. Batman reminded Danny way too much of Vlad and he got the ick.
“Okay, well, good talk, bye!” Danny ducked and ran, faster than he had before.
Batman grappled up and forward, trying to grab him. Danny, with years of dodge training under his belt and impeccable teenage instincts of gtfo, managed to dodge Batman’s reaching hands with a hollered “OPE!”
“Bye! See you never!” Danny ducked behind an alley and turned invisible as Batman swooped past.
When he was sure the vigilante was gone, he slowly faded into the visible spectrum.
“Jeez. Better warn Amy about this. Maybe I should hide in Crime Alley until this blows past.”
——
Gotham’s underbelly had a new tale to sling around their bars that week and a new demographic to be wary of.
The Terrors, the kiddie gang that ran perpendicular to Crime alley, was preyed on by Harvey Dent.
“What do you think you’re doing to them?!”
“Ahhhhhh!!!” Harvey screamed, flailing as a creature of shadows and claws- god damn those sharp ass claws- descended upon him, scarring it just one side but both sides of his very vulnerable face!
“Back the hell off of my kids, you fashion reject!”
As for Harvey… well, he’s developed an aversion to the smell of peanut butter and small children.
——
Batman, hunting down Danny because he’s worried about the endangered meta kid: you left me a Dent.
Danny, because he sees a vigilante bum rushing him: I have no cash! That’s the only way I can pay you back rn!
——
Batman, trying to lecture Danny about safety because he’s a worried batdad:
Danny: ew a rich stalker trying to be my dad!
@tricksterwitchkat can you tell I’ve been thinking about your pun for days? This is for you, thank you so much for that pun, it made my entire week.
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god-syndicate-if · 1 month
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DEMO [TBD] You've always been angry.
Rage comes naturally to you. With how much life has messed with you it's only fair that you use your anger. That's why you became a boxer. The thrill of breaking an opponent. And hoping they might break you in turn. They never do though. Every fight is a disappointment, almost as much of a disappointment as they pay for each fight.
Enter Jackie Roth, club owner, mob boss, and former god. When she offers you a job you can't say no. Not that you would, not when she and everyone in her gang feel so familiar to you. At least with this job you'll be able to use that rage inside you more.
As you learn the ways of the criminal underground you reconnect with people you never met. Reforge bonds that you've never made. And recall memories you've never had. You were a god once upon a time, can you become one again?
God Syndicate is an interactive novel where you play the newest incarnation of Ares, The God of War. It's 18+ for violence, explicit sexual themes, drug use, morally questionable behavior, and more.
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Customize your MC, play male, female, or nonbinary. With transgender options and pronoun selection. Customize your appearance and develop your personality.
Romance or befriend a cast of characters, including gods with more issues than you can count or even a mortal! Asexual and Aromantic options available.
Show the gods why you were feared all those years ago or prove that you're better than your past lives.
Uncover the mystery of disappearing gods as well as the mystery of your past.
Help out Elysium, the club where you'll practically live from now on. It seems to attract gods and that isn't always good.
Take out your anger on people who might even deserve it.
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Zeus: Jackie Roth - She/Her. [Not an RO]
Jackie is The King of The Gods and she makes sure everyone knows it. Her word is law in Elysium and beyond. Fail her and you'll have a storm waiting for you. In the years since your disappearance Jackie's love for her family has seem to only grow. But she has a criminal empire to run and you're just the weapon she needs.
Hermes: Riley Liao Zhi - Gender Selectable. [RO]
The Messenger of The Gods. Or in Riley's case, the ever bored personal assistant to Jackie. Riley's an adrenaline junkie with a heart of gold. As the one who found you they feel almost responsible for you. But why do they also seem so afraid of you?
Apollo: Franco Valerio - He/Him. [RO]
As expected of The God of Music, Franco's your classic rich and famous rock star. Well he would be, if only he could get out of Elysium. His love of singing and love of his family are two chains he can't break that tie him here. Will your arrival help break those chains or tighten them?
Aphrodite: Damiana "Dame" Rivette - Gender Selectable. [RO]
Quiet and Serious, Dame is no longer The God of Love they once were. The passion of their life faded and now bitterness grows where love should. The only friend they have in Elysium seems to be their fiance, Johnny. To make their life even worse, you arrive.
Nemesis: Verne Mercer - They/Them. [RO]
Protective? Vindictive? As the God of Retribution Verne can be described as both perfectly. As the bouncer of Elysium and Jackie's right hand Verne refuses to allow a threat near them or their friends. And what are you if not a threat?
Dionysus: Mitch Dorsey - He/Him. [RO]
It's almost cliche that Dionysus is the bartender for Elysium. But if Mitch needs to fall into old habits to help pay for his daughter's life then he will. He's tired of his life here and has never tried to hide it. Now with you coming back he wonders how long he can protect his daughter from The Gods. (Optional Poly route available with Sigourney)
The Mortal: Sigourney Hawthorn - She/Her. [RO]
Newly divorced from Mitch she struggles with juggling her (demigod) child, relentless job, and love life. As her daughter, Claudia, grows she wonders if she can keep up or if she'll be left behind. And now with your arrival Claudia's godly family gets bigger and her presence gets smaller. (Optional poly route available with Mitch)
Artemis: Rebel Reyes - She/Her. [RO]
How can The God of the Hunt thrive in the city? The prey here are either too weak or too annoying to hunt. The only thing Rebel craves is to feel that thrill again. With your arrival she has a perfect chance, who better to hunt than the God of War? She can't wait to meet you.
Nike: Johnny Noble- He/Him. [Not an RO]
How can you beat the God of Victory? When fate itself decides that it's special little boy gets to win then he wins. In any competition you can name, love included, he wins. You can't beat him so don't even try. He's engaged to the God of Love, friends with everyone in Elysium, and worshiped by everyone who meets him. You might as well join. No matter how insufferable he might be.
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lovegasmic · 4 months
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  ִֶָ a begining ↪ last part of mafia boss sukuna.
⋆ fluff, basically your life with Sukuna and your baby, I know reader had a bad pregnancy in the previous part but let's forget about that for the sake of a happy ending and a man obsessed with giving you more babies.
thank you all for joining me in this au ‹3 this is the end of mafia boss sukuna, next posts will be the spin offs but please do not hesitate in sending me your ideas + additions ! I'll happily add them to the masterlist as well.
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the pristine black shirt was always two buttons open starting from the collar, a matching jacket suit and tailored pants giving Sukuna his usual outfit for each reunion, gold watch and bright rings, although none as bright as your wedding band, and.... a pink band-aid?
“um, boss...” one of his subordinates speaks, his eyes drifting down to the sticky pink band on Sukuna’s hand.
yet Sukuna remains unbothered, a cold stare directed towards the man that dared speak, “does it bother you?” voice as icy as his eyes.
the man immediately lowers his head, unable to refute or dare utter another word through the rest of the reunion.
no one in the gang even considered there could be a change in their boss behavior though the multiple changes happening in his life, of course, the only thing that changed was the way his gaze softened and voice lowered when speaking to you and your baby, not as if his men expected a cute talk directed to them too.
“you should have waited at home” is what Sukuna says, barely managing to finish his sentence before your baby girl is babbling a ‘daddy!’ with grabby hands and a matching bandaid on her knee, not as if she was hurt, but the toddler wanted to match her adored dad, and of course, Sukuna’s face lights up, grabbing and tossing her in the air for a giggle to be heard the room before your husband is crushing your lips with his in a brief but passionate kiss.
“someone was too eager to see her daddy” is what you say, passing the toy your daughter forgot in your arms while she tossed herself at Sukuna.
“does that include you?” he asks with that characteristic smirk of his, covering your daughter’s ears and pressing her against his chest so she doesn’t hear how foul mouthed her dad is, but you stop the man before he gets to speak with a hand on his mouth.
“don’t finish that idea”
and your husband chuckles behind your palm, giving it a soft kiss before pulling it down and tangling his fingers with yours, “i’ll finish it once we’re home”
he doesn’t though, since upon entering the mansion you resided at, your daughter, —just like her father, quickly grabbed both of your hands and begged to have a tea party, setting out the cute plastic tea set in a tiny table and matching chairs that barely fitted Sukuna’s large frame, having him bent and with knees tucked against his chest to ‘sit properly’ like your daughter scolded.
a pink boa and matching princess crown were set on Sukuna’s head, this time it was an idea of yours that you quietly whispered in the kid’s ear, a private mommy-daughter prank to the man.
your husband doesn’t complain, nor refuses to do anything your daughter wants, instead he gives you a fond look as he sees you whispering, you both truly got him wrapped around your fingers.
“i’m sorry to interrupt you, boss” one of his men spoke gently knocking on the open door, and although the man remained stoic, there was a slight amused look in his eyes, and Sukuna wondered if he should fire or kill the man, ultimately deciding to be merciful for once and let him live.
“make it quick” Sukuna says, standing up with a proper apology to the ladies sitting at the plastic table, and just as requested, the subordinate doesn’t take long to deliver the message, giving you ample time to indulge in your daughter’s ideas until she got sleepier and sleepier.
“you know...” Sukuna starts, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, both laying in bed after a long day, “we should have another”
“you’re joking” you say, turning to look at him, “did you forget how bad the pregnancy was?”
“well... you’re right” he murmurs, mimicking your position and placing a hand on your belly, “but... if you change your mind... i’ll be more than happy to put another baby in you”
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🔖♡ @yuujispinkhair @valleydoli @hyeinwluv85s @sadmonke @ryomance @inzanekillian @emilymikado @r-ryuko09 @ichorstainedskin @acidrefiux @tadabzzzbee @thejujvtsupost
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joonipertree · 10 months
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Pro-racer Mikey that needs to do photoshoots and commercials every once in a while because he's famous and has a pretty face
He's put into his tracksuit or into lavish clothes to pose for the masses and a lot of people realise that Mikey has a presence on the camera that's unshakeable
And so....they decide to have him model for a photoshoot with one of the biggest models of the industry. Which works!! It's fine
They're just pictures.
But then the model posts a selfie of Mikey and her. and she says nothing but puts a heart in the caption.
And the speculations run WILD
Comments upon comments of shipping them together, calling them a power couple.
And you sit there, stuck in a doom scroll as you see one tweet after the other. You stare at your boyfriend, black hair neatly kept and smile wide like it always was, and you see the pretty girl.
And within seconds, you feel stupid for feeling insecure because Mikey had literally spent all morning peppering you in kisses, it was IMPOSSIBLE to pry him off even though he had a shoot and Draken had to come haul his ass up and out the door.
The man had texted you complaining how the food was blegh and how he missed your face.
There's no reason to be jealous.
So you turned off your phone and when Mikey came home, exhausted but very happy to see you....you let him smother you in kisses.
And it's forgotten
Until an unofficial bonus picture was released, on the magazine's Instagram page.
Him and the model, her leaning down as he sits on a chair...his hand wrapped around her wrist while their faces are inches close to each other.
It took three seconds to switch your phone off, throw it away and break down sobbing with whatever rational thought you had leaving your head.
You didn't need to read the comments to know what they were saying. You didn't need to wait until your friend's message you to ask if you're okay, out of pity. You didn't need his friends to call you in defense of him. You didn't need him to realise what had happened.
It was all a PR stunt so why would he even need to apologize. It was just a picture. Two people who were attractive being in close proximity to each other, being ogled by millions...being perceived as perfect for each other. As 'pleasing to the eye'
Now, Mikey was filming a commercial when this happened. He'd been chatting with the co-star while the cameras rolled when he noticed Ken-chin whisper into his phone.
The man looked annoyed, ready to argue but going rigid before sighing.
With a whisper to the director, everything paused as Ken waved his phone and said it was for Mikey. That it was Emma.
There was immediate panic because there's no way it wouldn't be an emergency. And he was right, his eyes widened and body grew stiff in seconds hearing his sister berate him.
For being a bastard, for breaking your heart like that.
She demanded he fixed it and when he was about to ask what was going on.....Draken shoved another phone into Mikeys hand...the instagram page of the magazine opened.
Oh. Fuck no
"I'm leaving." Mikey yelled out, startling everyone in the room, his years of being a gang leader coming out.
"What do you mean---"
Draken blocked the director's view, hands behind his back as he went back into the position of the second in command.
"You heard him."
"He has a contract--"
"He doesn't give a fuck."
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rlimagi · 2 months
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Can you do bridget with a villain GF. Like major Sunshine x Storm or whatever
Perfect Revenge
Pairings: Bridget x Villian! Reader
Genre: Fluff with a splash of reader being a menace <3
Warnings: evil activities?
Note: Hi!! Thank you for your request, this is a bit short but this is the first time I’m writing for Descendants so hopefully you’ll enjoy this! Also thank you everyone else for the requests, I’ll start writing as soon as I get more ideas<3
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“Sweetheart, you need to stop being so nice to people who don’t deserve it!” You frowned, voice raising higher and higher the longer you thought of Uliana who recently dropped a bucket of green paint over Bridget’s head.
It was humiliating for Bridget but she still forgave her, the thought made you more angry by the seconds.
“Calm down, baby. The school’s going to flood soon if you don’t, just…it’s fine just stop thinking about this.” Bridget being the angel she was, intertwined your hands with hers to calm you down even when she was the victim of a petty prank.
You sighed, your emotions got the best of you to the point that you didn’t realize that you summoned heavy rain upon the school grounds.
You lifted your eyes off the ground to see other students running inside the school, trying their best not to get too wet.
“Okay, fine…sorry but really, if she touches even an inch of your body again, Ursala might need to come on land to find her precious baby sister’s remains.” You said, smirking as you eyed Uliana and her gangs who were strutting to god knows where but you know it’s not to etiquette class.
“That’s well…good enough! Thank you baby, now stop sulking and go back to class!” Bridget smiled gleefully, giving you a kiss on the cheek before running off to her class before giving you a chance to respond.
Your face reddened at the sudden kiss even if it was only on the cheek. Bridget had always had this effect on you, even in the darkest of days she’ll somehow make it all brighter.
But just to your dismay, Uliana appeared in your sight again but this time she was alone. A smirk rose up your lips. “Sorry, Bridget. You’ve let Uliana off way too many times. She wants to play with fire, but I’ll give her all the elements.”
You silently followed her into the forest, waiting until she was too far from another living being aside from yourself to strike.
You stood on one of the branches of a tree, luckily the trees in the magic forest was big or else you wouldn’t have been able to hide so easily. “Uliana~” you sang out, your voice echoed into the darkness, scaring the living soul out of the villian.
“Who’s there!” Uliana shouted, trying to seem threatening but you could read her like an open book. She was trying her hardest not to tremble
“Is that how you speak to a friend?” You pouted, faking an innocent look as you jumped right in front of her.
“You!” Uliana screamed, her body fuming in anger but before she could utter another word you snapped your fingers. Then her lips was moving but no words came out.
“I?” You asked, pointing to yourself as you tilted your head to the side. “I what, Uliana?” your smile grew wider as the speed of her lips moved faster and faster, yet no words seemed to be coming out.
But clearly, Uliana wasn’t about to let you off so easily. She glared at you and was about to sprint to your way when you ordered the vines on the ground to pull her onto the ground, tying her whole body to the sharp grass.
Let’s say what happened next wasn’t very pretty.
“Yn! Guess what! Uliana hasn’t been bothering me at all lately, I think she liked the cookies I gave her!” Bridget smiled joyfully, placing the plate of cookies aside before running up to you to give the warmest hug ever.
You melted into her touch, nodding to everything she said. “Of course, who wouldn’t like my princess’s famous choco chip cookies.”
Bridget blushed at what you called her, “Your princess?” she pulled away from the hug for a bit to look right into your eyes, it was filled with love and adoration.
“Only mine, got it?” You claimed in a joking manner, grinning when she playfully pinched your cheek.
“Of course, silly.” Bridget cupped your face before pulling you in for a sweet kiss, a kiss sweeter than all the sweets in the world combined.
After pulling away from the sweetest you wished to never be apart from, you saw Uliana from the corner of your eyes. She looked like a deer caught in headlights after noticing your eyes on her, immediately she ran out of your sight.
It was you who made Uliana stop her bullying towards your girlfriend but no one needs to know about that. Especially Bridget, your girlfriend should never know that you tortured someone for hours just for her.
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dark-night-hero · 4 months
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Imagine being Umemiya Hajime's significant other.
Imagine looking after his and your plants within the rooftop base of Furin. Sure you knew he could always handle them yourself but a helping hand would not hurt once in awhile. So as your laid there on the makeshift hammock, you humm. Turning to your side carefully not to fall as you watch your lover's back. "Watcha doin' in there Hajimeee" You knew that he was doing, but the look on his face as he goes into his endless talk about plant was worth the nonesense.
Imagine everyone knew chaos would come if Kotoha were to ever get involved in a fight let alone get hurt. So what more when it comes to you? "Tsk. Cowards." You utter before spitting blood as your lips got busted, watching the gang cramble away as you wipe your lips with your sleeves only to hiss. You busted your lips. Rolling your eyes upon seeing the no one on sight. You turn your back only to see a familiar figure coming your way. "Wha- what? Who told him?!" Looking at the silver haird guy approaching you in great speed, you started to walk back. Oh damn you are screwed. Before you knew it, you were running on your toes with your boyfriend chasing after you closely and of course to no avail, he caught you in an instant.
"Hey, aren’t you banned from patrolling for 3 weeks?" "Ha ha ha I was just walking around?" "With dishevelled clothes and a busted lips? I doubt." "Come on, it was an act of self defense." "Just because you don't like how they are looking at you doesn't men you can throw a punch first." "..." "Add a week more into your ban." "Hajime!" "Nope, not working." He was protective, sure. But more than anything, you knew you can handle yourself pretty well, you did not have his back for nothing. In fact, in some cases, he was more worried about those punks you beat up rather than you. After you all could be pretty scary when mad. Scarier than him.
Imagine often hanging out on the cafe, you love their meals after all let alone the adorable cook in there. Just like Hajime, you adore Kotoha but unlike your boyfriend, you feelings were returned. "(First name)! Welcome back, oh- you're not with??" "Your older broo got something to do at the moment. Who knew, maybe he'll make it if he finished earlier." You laugh, recalling your whinny lover upon realizing it will take him more time to leave. "How I love the freedom away form responsibilities." You sigh, a smile making its way on your lips as you bring your beverage close to your lips when the bell rings with a thud. "You traitor! How could you leave me alone to take care of it all?!"
"Are you sure you don't need an anti-rabies shot?" You chuckle at your own joke as you dab his bite wound on the neck before wrapping it in bandage again. "Dude, even I don't get to mark you like this." You chuckle once again. Humming to yourself, you grab his hand that has his knuckle wounded. You frown, then you blow on it before grabbing your tweezer with disinfectant cotton in it before dabbing it on his wounds. "Ow." "Don't be dramatic." You roll your eyes at him. "Dumbass." You whispered, started bandaging his wounds once again. "Dumbass." You whispered once again. "I'm sorry." He mumble. You hate seeing him get hurt.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
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beatrixstonehill2 · 4 months
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"This is..... so much more thrilling than I ever could've imagined! I think I'm beginning to sympathize with women who drop everything to become trad wives or porn stars. Kidding...... maybe. As you all know my team were tasked with moving to South Africa for a five-year archaeological expedition, I guess you could say. My team are all women, and we were warned that the customs in this region of South Africa are very relaxed toward women. Almost like the deep south in the US right now. I told them we'd be pretty far from major population centers and it shouldn't be an issue but..... that was apparently wrong information.
We arrived and saw our lodging was right in the middle of a charming small town near the quarry my team intended to study. Immediately we were met by local guides who gave us the rundown. We'd be driven into the city twice a week for major shopping, otherwise we'd stay in this town. We were checked out by a local doctor, who had us strip naked, asking us about our sex lives, history of partners. The man laughed when we all said we slept with under ten men each, handing us our own vial of fertility drugs, assuring us that number would get higher very quickly.
Our guide told us to be respectful and not spurn the curiosity of locals, especially the men, in both the city and the town we'd be calling home for five years. Immediately, upon waking up the next day, a group of fishermen, all in their twenties and thirties came upon us. They were some of the most fit, chiseled men I'd ever laid eyes on. All of them wearing only shorts, their heavy erections visibly pressing against the fabric. We said hello, and before we knew it we were being passed around like mere toys. I guess the rumors of a certain group of men having large endowments is..... very much true. I'd never been fucked so hard in my life. Most men I've slept with were so clumsy and afraid to do anything I might deem offensive. These men did not care one bit about my pleasure, or even my safety. They were studs in the truest sense! We were fragile mares, helpless like maidens as we were held down and brutally fucked for hours.
When they finished, our holes flooded with what had to be a liter or more of semen, we looked at each other, and despite having been essentially gang raped, we all agreed it was the most thrilling, glorious sexual experience of our lives. So, spurn we did not! All of us made sure to wear skirts and dresses so our holes were readily accessible for the locals. Needless to say the constant sexual intervention has delayed our expedition quite a bit. We've all lost tally of how many men have fucked us. Thousands, by my estimation, and it's wonderful to know I'm so sexually experienced now! I very quickly stopped seeing it as rape, more so I was fulfilling my womanly duties to the local men. I daresay this is how humanity fared for thousands of years before puritanical religions ruined everything.
We've been here a year and four months. We're all five months along with our second batch of children. These pregnancies are looking markedly larger than our first. It's so exciting to see our wombs expand so quickly. To our surprise the men did not simmer down whatsoever as we became immensely pregnant with at least triplets. On the contrary, the larger our uteruses stuck out, the more men would rush over to ram their shockingly large cocks into us. It's incredible to realize what my body was always capable of! I always treated sex so daintily, soft and erotic, come to find out my body was capable of being forty weeks pregnant, my womb filled to the bursting point with four kicking, ten-pound children, as dozens of men pound away at my swollen, dilated sex. My body has taken so well to this I feel like I'm finally achieving its true purpose. Seeing my body endure so much sex, cocks forcing their way into my holes so large they're less fit to impregnate a girl than scramble her innards.
It's naturally grinded our professional affairs to a halt. But I don't see any of us complaining, in fact I'm looking forward to getting so pregnant I might lose the ability to get up and walk, like many local girls. It's positively thrilling to consider I might be little more than a bed-bound, fuckable womb in a few short moths, my sex wettens are the mere thought. The quarry has been there for hundreds of thousands of years, I'm sure it can wait. Until then, I think I'll ask that local doctor to increase our fertility drugs, on a scientific level I'm morbidly curious to see just how many kids can fit in my womb. It's so exciting! I'm hoping I be filled with over twenty, imagine, all those men pounding away at my poor body, as I stare at my towering belly, pinning me down, an entire classroom of children writhing away inside me. Such a thing..... would necessitate repeat testing for many years to come. Not sure we'll be making the five-year deadline. But that's fine, I don't mind calling this place home far longer."
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brailsthesmolgurl · 4 months
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PUPPY LOVE?
Preview: You had always been the apple to their eyes. How would they express their affection towards you in highschool?
Warnings: I had to make it slight-slight-slight angsty hehe, teeth-rotting fluff for comfort for my beloved readers <3 btw readers and the boys are highschool kids in this one-shot so no suggestive or anything!
P.S: This idea came to me in the middle of the night and I knew I had to burn the midnight fuel to squeeze all of my brain juice for this piece :> Enjoyyy!
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RAFAYEL
You lifted your head up when you heard a chair dragged against the tiled flooring. It came to a halt and down sat the lilac haired fellow, right in front of you, his chin propped on the back of his hand as he leaned down to look at you, a smirk hung on his thin lips. Rafayel. "Someone looked like they had a nightmare yesterday."
"It's none of your business." You furrowed your eyebrows, gaze turned towards the classroom door. More classmates are starting to walk in, greeting each other good mornings and immediately getting into their daily routines of catching up or gossiping. You, on the other hand, do not really belong to any 'gangs'. You find solace within your own bubble and occasionally, do hang out with your only friend, Tara.
The purple haired individual in front of you frowned, your answer unappealing to his taste. This young man sitting in front of you is the lucky charm of your school, and almost everyone dotes on him, headmaster, teachers and students alike. Both of his parents are renowned artists, comparable to Van Gogh and many other artists throughout history books and as expected, Rafayel inherited the same talent as his parents. Rich, handsome, charming and talented, he is basically a girl magnet.
"You do not have to be so rude you know." He stood up when he heard his name being called. Reaching into the pockets of his blazer, he took out two cheese sticks and placed it onto your table. "Here, have this. Your frown makes you look like a shriveled up prune. Some cheese sticks would probably do well for you." He chuckled teasingly and stepped out of your personal bubble, heading out of the classroom.
If glares could kill, you would probably be laying on the floor motionless by now. The cheese sticks that sat at your table were attracting unwanted attention from the girls in your class. You had absolutely no idea why Rafayel would always approach you. The attention you are receiving from him does not beat the attention other girls are getting as well, not that you cared but you just find it odd. A lone girl getting so much attention from the school's celebrity, what would the others think of it? Maybe he is just trying to be friendly. That always remains the reason to your question.
Here comes the other question. You do not think you like him, but why does your heart flutter whenever he is near you? Bidding you good morning and goodbye had became a part of a routine for the both of you. Why would your heartstrings tug whenever you find another girl initiating skinship with him? Why?
**✿❀○❀✿**
Rinnnggggg. The bell rung, indicating the end of another school day. Students rushed out like ants out of the school premises, flooding the empty hallways. You packed your things, eyeing the time displayed by the clock. 3pm. It is the perfect time for you to go to the art room to practice some drawing. You may not be an artist like the talented Rafayel, but you still do have your own fascination towards drawing and sketching.
You walked in the direction opposite of the flow, passing through the crowd like a fish trying to swim upstream. As you were nearing the art room, someone knocked you over and you fell backwards, with your bagpack being your cushion as you landed back first onto the floor. You still winced upon impact. "Oh look, it's Rafy's pet." The girl that knocked you over crossed her arms, her blond curls tied up in a high ponytail. Oh, it's the school's flower girl, Jarianne, but you guessed it. She is nowhere carrying the aura of a flower.
Sighing, you pushed yourself off of your back, not even having the thought to fight back. "Know your place would you?" Jarianne spoke, studying her oval shaped painted nails. "Rafy might give you cheese sticks every once in a while, but that does not mean anything. Don't get your hopes up, okay sweetie?" Huffing a smile, the mean girl strutted off, leaving you calculating your next steps.
Shrouded with anger, you got up and made your way towards the art room. You are ready to splash some paint onto the canvas, wanting to express your anger in a much more 'healthier' form. She was right. Who are you to be engaged with Rafayel. Someone who is a loner like you should not be in any way associated with someone of such a high status like him. You are halfway at being disappointed at yourself until you slide the door opened and you saw Rafayel in the art room.
He looked ethereal, basked in the warm light of the sun in the midst of a cloudy afternoon, his lilac hair slightly tousled on his head. His back was facing you, but you could tell with the way his paintbrush moved across the canvas with grand gestures, he is painting yet another masterpiece. Part of his uniform, the dark blue blazer and white collared shirt was messily tossed onto one of the desks nearby, and he is left in his black t-shirt. Right when you are about to leave, his head snapped around and he caught sight of you standing in the doorway with beady eyes. "Finally, you're here." Framing himself to be waiting for you this whole time. Well, he was.
"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." You consciously tucked a stray strand of your brunette curls behind your ear, your face immediately turning red when you realised that you may have taken a bit longer then usual to be staring at the young man. "I'm gonna go." You turned and immediately started jogging down the hallway.
"Wait! Wait!" Rafayel called out for you, yet, you did not bother to turn back. All you could hear was the sounds of chairs creaking and a loud thud, followed by hurried footsteps.
You turned a corner and slid yourself into an empty classroom to catch your breath. When you sat yourself down, the door slid right open and Rafayel presented himself, huffing and panting as he bent himself down to slow his breaths. You were shocked of course, that he would run down the halls for you. Jarianne's words rang through your head like an alarm and it filled you with more regrets.
"You should stop talking to me." You clenched your fist, standing up, getting ready to leave. "We are not friends to begin with, so we should keep it that way." When you walked past him, he gripped your wrist and you gasped in response. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Do you actually..." He took in a huge breath and straightened his posture, now eyes meeting yours. "Are you actually so naive?"
"Look, I don't know what you are trying to do Rafayel, but I am not interested in whatever you are going to say. Just leave me alone." You pulled your wrist out of his grip but it only prompted him to hold your wrist tighter. "Leave me be!"
You slipped, and he grabbed you by your waist, underestimating the strength of his before he stumbled backwards and you ended up pressing him against the wall. The both of you had the same expression, widened eyes and flushed cheeks. Tension immediately started pumping into the air, causing your body to tense up. "Are you upset?" He broke the silence between you two, leaning down closer to you to inspect your face. "I had never seen you getting so mad before."
MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. A part of you do like him, you liked that he would only greet you in the morning and when you leave home, you liked that he would offer to teach you art anytime you wish, you liked that sometimes he would ditch his friends just to come and sit with you during recess. But, Jarianne was right. You always have this part of you that refused to accept the fact that you do indeed, like Rafayel. Just like all of the other girls out there. It's just that you are nothing special at all. You will be regarded as any other fan girl of his.
Hesitation laced in your voice. "I just don't think someone like you should be spending time with someone like me Rafayel." Your gaze dropped, feet shuffled against the floor beneath, watching the dust particles flying up into the air.
He clicked his tongue, but remained still. "You have not answered my question. Why do you think I go out of my way to talk to you everyday hmm?" Your silence was met with the continuation of his thoughts. "That's because I like you, y/n."
Your breath hitched in your throat when he confessed to you and you nervously took a step back to put more space in between the both of you. "Don't." His arms snaked around your waist and he reeled you in, nose tips almost touching. It took you a while to only realise that Rafayel is red like a tomato, the confession of his happen to be genuine afterall. His blushing expression is a sight to behold. Just like in a watercolour painting, all of the colours are harmonised, his purplish, tousled soft curls that sat on top of his head framed the outline of his carved facial shape well, with scarlet red lightly dabbed across his pale cheeks, giving the illusion of his eyes sticking out like magenta gemstones on a iridescent rubicund-white marble complexion. "I really do like you y/n."
"Why?" That is the only question you can mutter out of your mouth. You sounded dumb for a second but you would like to find out what he deemed special about you.
You can sense his nervousness when his eyes started darting everywhere and his arms withdrew from your waist. "I...You're...Uhm..." He is clearly struggling with his words. "You are different. You do not find the need to please me or to catch my attention." His words were spoken slowly and precisely, calculated even. "I like you because of the way you are, y/n. You are not like the other girls. Sometimes, when I look at you, I wanted to sketch a drawing of you, but I couldn't, because that's how alluring you are to me. No drawings could achieve that."
The way he phrased his affection towards you, was nothing of confidence but only of his vulnerability. Five years throughout his secondary days, you always regarded him to be the embodiment of confidence, carrying himself well has always been a gestalt of his. But today, you do not find that in him, all you see is this young man stumbling over every single word, self-doubt equivalent to yours hinted in his tone. He does not see himself to be worthy of you, just like you do not think you are worthy to him. The thought of it ached your heart.
"Rafayel. I...I never knew you liked me." Reaching your hands up, you patted his shoulders awkwardly, not really knowing where to position your hands. "I thought you just wanted to tease me and push me around like a plaything."
"The audacity to say that." He scoffed, face scrunched up like a shriveled prune he had mentioned to you earlier. "I don't like keeping the people I like as pets or any derogatory words you may think of, you know?" The sight of you holding onto his shoulders, eyes widened made him smile, one of his hand lightly patting the top of your head. Rafayel notices the way your lips would wobble the slightest when you tried to alleviate your own anxiety, convincing him further that you do possess the same feelings as him. He only has to figure out how to make you believe that he is not messing with your feelings and how to not escalate this sweet moment into a dramatic and awkward mess. "I don't want you to be accusing me of something so lowly anymore, yeah? Promise me?"
"But... what would people say when they see..." You gestured between the two of you, head already coming up with all sorts of accusations that would be thrown towards the both of you. "Us together? I don't want to trouble you..."
"They can say anything, but we can treat it as nothing y/n." He ran his hand down to your cheek, cupping your small face in his palm now, your face slowly warming up in his palm. "In the end, I chose you. It is only right for them to be jealous." He smiled leisurely, confidence resurfacing again. "So, would you date me y/n?"
Gnawing onto your lip, you nodded your head and looked down. You had only seen this in romance shows, where lip kisses are supposed to happen after confessions do. But you felt his soft lips collided against your forehead and your heart released sparks of fire uncontrollably. You are screaming internally as if you had won the lottery. As he pulled back, you raised your head up to glance at his facial features. Rafayel is beaming, hand still placed on the side of your cheek. As if it was cued, he managed to answer your question before you could even ask. "I will not kiss your lips until you allow me to, yeah? I will always wait until you're ready, as I respect---"
Wrong question, but does not beat the fact it was relevant to what you were initially going to ask him. Something along the lines of ‘whether are we going in for the kiss’. You decided to act upon your decision. Closing the short distance between you two, you planted your lips onto his, swallowing his uncertainty to fuel your bravery for the upcoming challenges you will have to face for being Rafayel's girl.
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ZAYNE
"So, for this experiment, find someone you can pair up with to write a report based on your findings." Miss Akko instructed, placing the chalk onto her large wooden desk and scanning the crowd for any blank slates. "If you have any questions, you can always come and find me for consultations."
You looked towards the guy sitting next to you, Zayne. Ballpoint pen held in between his long fingers, gliding swiftly against the paper to create a neat yet slanted handwriting. Altough the class had ended, you could tell that he is still very much in his zone, jotting down whatever the teacher had mentioned earlier. If he could record it, you believe that would be the most viable way for him to stay on top of his grades all of the time. His posture relaxed when the last bell of the day rung. "Hey." You called out to him and he turned his head to face you. "Would you like to pair up? For the experiment?"
You had paired up with him for a few times for chemistry class. Being with the smartest kid does earn you a few perks, but he is not much of a talker so sometimes doing assignments with him would result in a crow-cawing awkwardness. "Sure." He nodded his head once and started gathering his reading materials into a pile while standing up.
Zayne has always been a man of a few words. Nodding is his most useful reaction whenever you ask him of something that he is borderline interested in. But if he does not agree with you, then he shall give you the stare that would make you question yourself about the absence of an answer from him. "When do you plan to do---"
"I will see you after class tomorrow." He cut you off, zipping his bag up and pulling it over his broad shoulders effortlessly. "Remember to bring your brain." OOF, COLD. It most likely explains why nobody would usually pair up with Zayne. More like he just refuses to.
Zayne was best known for his good looks and big brain but other than that, he does not have an appealing personality that makes him desirable among girls. Good to admire from afar but not good to interact with. Ever heard of the trend 'He is a 10 but...' . Yeah, that is Zayne's title trend. Only to people who has been in close contact with him. Yeah, he could be a dick with how straightforward he is but you find it as an admirable trait of his. He stabs people with his words, with truths that nobody would dare to say and maybe, you do secretly like him for the way he is.
“Come on Zayne, it’s not like I don’t study or help out with the reports for the past few times.” You rebutted, palms faced upwards and eyebrows knitted closely together. Zayne stood in his spot, expressionless face hiding his amusement. “So I do have a brain!”
He turned towards the direction of the door and started making his way out, not without giving his last statement. “Says the one who can’t even score a decent C grade.” There you stood, in the empty classroom, choked onto the curse words that you were about to throw at him when you heard his statement but you are sure with his lanky legs, he would have been out of earshot by now.
**✿❀○❀✿**
TAP TAP TAP TAP… Your footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, reverberating through the empty classrooms. You were late for the meeting with Zayne because you had forgotten to bring your lunch to school today so you ended up having to run down to the vending machine to grab some quick bites. The machine however, betrayed your trust, the ultimate cliche move anyone can think of putting into a filler clip for a movie, when the snack gets stuck during the retrieving period purely because of the vending machine error. You could have easily gotten in trouble if anyone were to spot you with your whole arm shoved into the machine just to grab the item you had literally paid for.
The door slammed open with force and you were greeted with the sight of Zayne in the classroom. With a girl bent halfway down right next to him. You recognised her immediately, the long blond hair with forest green eyes, milky pale skin with a smile that could make anyone faint upon seeing it. She is the school’s student president, Nyla. The both of them perked their heads up, reacting to the sound of the door being slammed opened only to see you standing in the doorway, face flushed from the heat, holding onto your snacks in your hand. “Hey y/n.” The student president grinned, her pearly whites nearly blinded you. “Do you mind giving us some time? We have some personal matters to settle.” Not only does she look pretty, she has a pleasing attitude too? Just great. Pursing your lips, you nodded and went out the same way you came in, sliding the door closed behind you in a more polite manner this time.
“I still can’t believe that you are working on an assignment with her.” Nyla huffed, pushing her hair back with her fingers as she bent down next to Zayne again, staring at his notebook. Nyla had initially wanted to meet up with Zayne regarding the discussion for the upcoming school festival that will be held but eventually, she turned it into her personal chat session with Zayne. “Is she a freeloader most of the time?”
“No.” Zayne replied. “She does her part as I do for mine.” Zayne, at this point had already caught note on what Nyla is trying to do. Provoking a conversation out of him when he is late for the initial assignment arrangement with you bothers him. “I think you had already gotten all of the answers you needed for the school festival.”
“But, I would like to get to know you too.” Nyla sat herself onto the side of his desk, manicured fingers fanned herself in an attempt to cool herself down. “Say, how about we try to go out for a little bit hmm?”
The raven haired young man did not even spared her a glance, eyes focused on his handwritings. “Zayne, come on. Smarty pants with a cute face like you dating me would be the talk of the school for weeks to come.” The pitch of her voice heightens at the end of her sentence and Zayne sighed in frustration. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and exhaled.
“I am not interested in being your pawn.” He glanced at her and her smile faltered, alongside her confidence. “Nor do I find the necessity to feed into the delusions of yours.” The indifference shown on his body language gave her the conclusion she did not expected from him. Her pretentious ‘girl-next-door’ attitude no longer on display. The anger of a spoiled child who gets whatever they want seeped through and she raised her palm, ready to land it onto his cheek but he caught it right before it touches his cheek. “I wouldn’t do it to someone who believes in gender equality.”
Nyla withdrew her hand, strings of curse words falling out of her lips as to save herself from embarrassment and she left the classroom. The young man sat in the room, staring at the new page he had just flipped over on his notebook and he noticed the drawing of a stick man next to the page number. The stick man appeared to be holding onto the number 6 like a hockey stick and the 0 being reimagined as a puck. His lips pulled into a small smile, flashing back to the time when you tried to be sneaky when he was out of the classroom during one of your past assignment pairings, conducting this tomfoolery on his notebook and quickly returning everything back to its original position. But he saw it all, from the crack of the door when he was about to enter the empty classroom. He finds your childlike behaviour amusing after all.
**✿❀○❀✿**
“We are done talking.” You stared up, the blinding sunlight immediately getting shielded by Zayne’s opaque outline. You squinted your eyes narrower only to find that Zayne has his hand stretched out to you, given you are in a seated position. “We should get started on our assignment.” You took his hand and he pulled you up, the sheer size of his palm wrapped around your whole hand easily.
“Here.” You reached your hand into the pocket of your uniform and pulled out a small box of chocolate cookies. “This is for you. It fell out when I was trying to grapple for my sandwich.”
Zayne took the box into his hands, contemplating on the way you got it. “Did the vending machine got stuck again?” Your nod made him smiled a little. “If it gets stuck again next time, you can just ask me to get it for you.”
His sudden suggestion nearly made you choked on the last bite of your egg and cheese sandwich. It is hard to believe he would come out all of the way here to find you, let alone making small talk and telling you that you can ask him to solve your troubles whenever you please? But your dumb brain only believe that he was only trying to be helpful and he is merely thanking you for bringing him a snack. “So what did you guys talk about?” You could not help but to ask as the both of you slowed down your steps to be in sync with one another.
“She wanted me to go out on a date with her.” You were lucky you had finished your sandwich, or else this sentence would have sent you into full on choking mode. You did expect Nyla to ask him out to a certain extent given his popularity, but you were caught off guard that he was even willing to share the details about what had went on behind those closed doors earlier. “I told her that there is not a need to waste her time.”
Hm? You stopped in your footsteps and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” Your lips had blurted out the sentence before your mind is in control and you swallowed the instant regret of the question. Zayne too, stopped in his footsteps and he looked at you, his hazel green orbs stood out more like a lush forest under the blazing sun above your head. When he took a step towards you, your heart lurched, eyes scanning the surroundings for anyone present.
“I already have someone on my mind.” Zayne closed the distance between the both of you. Within arms length, Zayne reached his right hand outwards and held your cheek. An immediate gasp could be heard, the pace of your heartbeat quickened, so as your breath. You could hear your own heartbeat in your head. It does not take a genius for one to unravel who he likes. You stood in front of him, drinking in his gaze that had softened for one of the very few times, and this time he did not snap his head away immediately. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek, soothing the spreading redness that is a result of your realisation regarding his point.
Your eyes lit up and your jaw slacked, eyes frantically searching for a joke within his eyes but when you found no ill intention, you amounted to satisfy your curiosity. “Why…why me?”
His thumb slid down to your jawline, and stopped at your chin. Raising it up just enough for his eyes to be looking into yours and you gulped nervously when he closed the distance between the both of you. He smiled, lips tugged up slightly on both corners because all these while, he knew that the both of you have the same feelings for one another, but he just never really have the opportunity to be alone with you, till now. "You will find out soon enough." Leaning down, Zayne pressed his lips softly against yours to present his confession to you, stealing your first kiss away.
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XAVIER
The countdown in your head never fails you. When the minute hand hits 12 on the clock, the bell rung, the teacher looked up from the book he was holding, glasses slid down his nose slightly as he realised his class period had came to an end. "Remember your homework kids. I will see you next week." He announced as the students all got up in sync, bowing and thanking the teacher for his teaching efforts.
As you landed your bum back onto your chair, you heard someone calling your name and your head turned towards the source of the sound. The blond bloke named Xavier sauntered over to you, his eyelids still half closed. "Hey, you going over for the fencing extracurricular later?"
"Yeah I am. Why?" You asked him nonchalantly, all while clearing your items off of the table and placing them into your bagpack. When you do not hear his response, your hands rested on your bag and you looked up at him, squinting your eyes. "Wait. You plan to skip it don't you?"
Xavier's eyes widened and his light eyebrows arched upwards. "What, no. I just..." His right hand reached up to rub the nape of his neck. "I just thought we could walk there together if you'd like."
Sighing in relief you smiled and nodded, pulling your bagpack over your back. You had forgotten to arrange the books you have to bring today hence the load of your bag became a deadweight and it nearly sent you rolling onto the ground. Xavier caught you on time before your face gets planted onto the tiled ground. "Careful. Here, let me help."
"Thanks." The blond young man easily took your bagpack off of your back, slinging it over the side of his shoulder that has his messenger bag hung onto. With the weight of fingerpads pressed against your arm, you flushed red when you realised that he had not released his hold on you. Catching your sight, he trailed it down to your arm and he released his grip, equally embarassed at how long the skinship lasted.
Truth is, you and Xavier are somewhat at the level of best friends. The both of you share the same classes and same taste for food, alongside same extra curricular activities. But recently, you started feeling more and more abashed around him. You would consciously want to look good in front of him; either it be tucking your hair behind your ears, chuckling gently instead of laughing like a troll, ironing your clothes to make it look pressed and neat. You are like becoming a whole different person just for him. But it is not necessarily for the bad.
**✿❀○❀✿**
Clank, Clink, Clank Clank. The sounds of the blades grinding against one another created screeches and clinking, which are not the right music for the ears. You sat a couple of meters away from the mat, eyeing Xavier clad in the metallic polyester jacket that is overlain with a thin, interwoven steel strands in between to provide him protection. Lamés is the right term for the protective gear on his torso. Gasps and mutters could be heard echoing in the huge hall, judgements and commentaries thrown around as the showdown between Xavier and his opponent has been relatively entertaining.
The whole nine minutes, both of the fencers has been extremely aggressive, parrying and lunging against one another whenever an opening is spotted. The race to land 15 touches on the opponent make it an extremely fast and deft sport. The both of them had equated to 14 touches each and this last touch would determine the winner. The referee stood in middle, arms raised midway to insinuate the start of the tie-breaker round. "Pret? Allez!"
The blades then ensued, waving in the air. "Halt." It was called out in two seconds and both of the opponents backed up, standing still in their spots. Your heartbeat thumped, the last you saw was the both of their blades touched both of their respective opponent's foil. It is hard to determine who is the winner. The referee was seen walking over to Xavier and he spoke. "Parrying then riposte, point-in-line is perfect and that forward extension of yours is worth the risk." He grabbed Xavier's arm and raised it, everyone in the hall cheered as Xavier removed his headgear and grinned, eyes landing onto you.
You smiled back, proud that he had manage to win the competition. You stood up when he walked off of the platform, wanting to congratulate him but Chiara beat you to it. "Xavier! You did so well!" The girl bounced over, her curls bounced to her footsteps' rhythm as well. "Oh my god, that was such a fight."
"Thanks." Xavier smiled and she grabbed him by his neck, throwing herself into his arms and you were stunned at her boldness. Xavier however, did not seem fazed as his arms raised up to pat her back. Chiara may just be an amiable individual but your mind abnegated that possibility and only opened its chamber doors to jealousy.
In a disconsolate, nervous manner, you turned and proceeded to walk out of the hall. Your heart thumped hard against your chest like booming speakers in an EDM concert. It also caused a lump to form in your throat. It hurts. Something about her just greeting and hugging him so casually made her wonder why did he never told you about his girlfriend before? He is already mysterious enough but at this point, it felt like a betrayal to you. But then again, he does not owe you that favour to tell you about his dating life if he does not wish to say anything.
Finding a cosy corner next to the herb garden that belonged to the Plant Society, you sat down at the side of the curb and amused yourself with the view of butterflies twirling around blooming flower petals. Amongst the weeds, Magnolia blossoms are most of the denizens found within the small patch of ground. Time passed by, perhaps around a couple of minutes and you heard hurried footsteps in the background but you were too engrossed with the butterfly landing onto a magnolia's carpels that you did not bother to turn around.
"Y/n." Xavier called out. "I had been searching everywhere for you." You turned your head slowly, stopping with only half of your face visible to him. "Did you noticed me winning just now?" "Yeah I did." You pushed yourself off of the curb, dusting the dirt off of your dark skirt and you faced him, gaze catching his chest rather than his cerulean orbs. "In fact, I saw Chiara went up to hug you." Your pout although not shown, it was obvious to Xavier. You are jealous.
He stepped forward and wrapped his lanky arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You were bewildered. In his arms, feeling his warmth spreading to your body and his scent swathed you, he smells like clean sheets and a bubble bath. Perhaps from his change of clothes. "I'm sorry." He spoke, breath batting against the nape of your neck. "I should have rejected her hug right then and there."
"It's okay Xavier, I didn't know you have a girlfriend." You were quick to address your hesitation, ready to take a step back from him but his hold around you tightened, not allowing you to leave his arms.
"She isn't. She isn't my girlfriend, y/n." He slowly pulled back, arms now moved to rest on your shoulder. For a moment, a gleam of wary was ready to surface but Xavier was quick to put out that emotion of his. "I don't think of her anything more than a friend. Unlike you."
Confusion clouded you like a misty apparition above your head. "What about me?" Your index finger pointed towards yourself. "What do you mean by 'unlike me'."
"I like you." His gaze unwavering, genuine intentions full on display. "I had liked you for a very long time y/n." Your jaw dropped to the ground almost instantly. You were not expecting this to happen at all but look at how fate has presented itself. Xavier smiled, his angelic smile akin to his divine features. He would have been mistaken to be an angel if you did not know that the halo around his head is the sun peeking out from the back of his head. “And I think I would very much like you to be my girlfriend instead of her.”
Your eyelids blinked rapidly, eyelashes just a few more blinks away to cool down the redness in your cheeks. As a reflex, your hands flew up to your mouth to mask your excitement, your lips probably pulled into a grin that stretches to both ears. “I…I…” Your stammering further betrayed your feelings and Xavier leaned down, supple hands held onto your wrist and he pulled your hands down, finally being able to see your shyful expression.
“Seeing you like this makes me very happy y/n.” He cupped your cheeks softly, tediously brushing the pads of his thumb across your cheek and he leaned in, planting a kiss onto your lips to officially make you his girlfriend.
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Hope this fluff makes your day my lovelies! <3
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hongthoven · 7 months
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「✦Mist ✦」 ʰᵒⁿᵍʲᵒᵒⁿᵍ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ⁽ˢᵐᵘᵗ⁾
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one-shot 𖹭 4.5k w
pairing 𖹭 kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader
tags 𖹭 smut; established relationship; rough sex; car sex; jealousy; possessiveness; bit of dirty talk if you squint
✏️ Hongjoong is the jealous kind - you know it, everyone around you knows it, but what was supposed to be a chill night out with your friends takes an unexpected turn when your boyfriend accidentally hears about a past fling including one of the boys sitting at the table next to you.
pls reblog & comment if you like it 𖹭
© hongthoven
“He’s gonna blow this off. You just watch”
An uneventful, typical Friday night at your local bar with your usual gang, dusting off the reminiscence of a neverending busy week of work and pretending to enjoy the company of people you wish you didn’t even have to interact with daily. With his elbows pressed against the table as he lifts himself to get a perfect view over the bar where one of your friends disappeared merely a minute ago, Seonghwa can’t contain the hysterical laughter shaking him to the bones as you all sit there watching another chaotic cry for attention from the man who’s about to use another infamous cringy pick-up line to get into the bartender’s pants. 
While you’re not always proud to introduce him as such, Wooyoung has been granted with the best-friend status ever since you were still crawling in your nappies and struggling with the concept of syllables; and even though there was a time he used to be cute enough to get out of an awkward situation, watching him make an absolute fool of himself sits inevitably at the top three things you like to do on a Friday night– having Hongjoong there by your side only sprinkles an ounce of perfection to this moment, your boyfriend primarily acting like the cherry on top of every mundane situation. And right now, with his palm tucked between your closed thighs and his forehead occasionally resting against your shoulder every time he starts to laugh a little bit too loud at your friend’s misery, Hongjoong definitely looks like the tastiest dessert to the three-courses-meal you could have used upon heading to the bar. 
Red at the cheeks, you can already feel the sheer mix of alcohol and excitement as everyone starts to chant some improvised loser anthem to welcome back Wooyoung at your table, his cocky smirk untouchable as he finds his spot right next to you with the confidence of a sore loser facing the tragic ‘game over’ screen of a video game. Looking for the support he can’t find in any of you, Wooyoung immediately reaches for the first glass in front of him — yours —  and chugs it down his throat in what you count as two painfully slow gulps. Within a second, the glass hits the table back with a loud thump.
“Can’t even get your own drink?”
“Hhhhh— chill, babe, what’s yours is mine, remember? and yes, that includes YOU, Joong!” Wooyoung smirks a little bit too proudly, your cheek pinched between two of his fingers as he manages to equally piss you and your boyfriend off with his typical provocative tone. 
Lucky for you, Hongjoong is quick to let him know he wouldn’t go near his dick even if he was about to die and the only remedy was laying in his cum– and as the topic eventually dies with Wooyoung quietly chuckling to himself, the back of his head hitting the leather of the booth you had claimed as yours over an hour ago, Seonghwa calls for another round, ready to keep the night going. 
It’s nothing close to unusual, having a bunch of friends in their twenties naturally leading the conversation towards their favorite topic: sex. More specifically, a heated debate over who’s getting some and who gets to take the “no bitches” status home for the week. Seonghwa usually gets the party started– as a photographer, the man never fails to share the crudest anecdotes about a photoshoot turned into some sort of orgy, sparing no details even though being asked to ‘get to the point’ about a thousand times throughout his stories. Then, Wooyoung would usually make his contribution by sharing some of his latest Tinder encounters, using this moment to be his favorite version – the center of attention – and turning a random story about a date in a coffee shop into a Shakespearian drama, tone and everything, to entertain the crowd. 
By the time the two single pieces of your gang are done, they typically enjoy teasing you – the happy couple – asking if sex hasn’t turned too boring yet, as you’re soon to be entering your third year as an item. But tonight, for some reason, shit unexpectedly hits the fan when a silly comment makes your boyfriend flinch into his seat, eyebrows knitted together as Wooyoung’s voice – always too loud and high-pitched – comes out with a secret you thought would be kept forever, merely a piece of information, a glitch from the past, nothing to even discuss— unless Hongjoong decides to make it an issue. 
“You two slept together?” you only realize he’s been quiet for a while when his voice surprisingly cracks under the utter shock of picturing his girlfriend hooking up with the womanizer sitting by her side. Until then, never considered a threat but now standing awfully close to the woman Hongjoong liked to claim as his, brand new information instantly breaking the perfect balance between a long-time friend and an ex-lover he didn’t see coming. 
“I wouldn’t technically call it ‘sleeping’ — I mean, there was no bed involv—”
“Shut up, Wooyoung” you cut him off immediately, rolling your eyes at the way he simply NEEDS to add useless details to his statement.
“That was ages ago” While you feel the urge to add context, the way Hongjoong’s hand immediately stills between your thighs, matching the one holding his glass close to his lips as he tilts his head with a quick, unimpressed chuckle, says it all. He is pissed.
The rest of the evening is quite a blur as you fail to focus on any of the ongoing conversations, your attention entirely drawn to Hongjoong who's gone quiet ever since he heard about a whole section of your life you had managed to keep undercover to this day. And though you try to make eye contact every now and then, you’re a bit concerned to face his clenched jaw and a stone-cold silence, his body only reacting from primal instinct whenever Wooyoung wraps an arm around your shoulders to joke around, your boyfriend’s eyes following his every move like a predator ready to jump if he dares coming closer.
The silence between you two occurs for the rest of the night and follows you through the streets as you struggle to match your boyfriend’s pace, alcohol and stilettos as the worst combination with wet concrete from a drizzly evening. 
“Are you seriously mad at me?” You eventually dare to ask, your hand reaching for his arm to stop him in his tracks – quite honestly you’ve grown tired of staring at his back and strolling behind like a puppy who’s just wet the new carpet. 
“Take a wild guess” Hongjoong almost hisses as he finally turns to face you, one of his hands collecting a fistful of his black hair to push it back and in this moment, you hate the fact he looks so divine, droplets sparkling all over his face like skin made of a billion diamonds, thick lashes battling against a storm as he locks your gaze, trying desperately to read through your puzzled expression.
“For Christ’s sake Hongjoong, that was YEARS ago— a whole different life!”
“It’s not about ‘when’ it happened, Y/N, I’m just wondering why it never came up before. God knows he likes to talk about the places his dick has been before, we had a complete walk through a world tour— Wish I knew you were one of the stops.” 
“It never came up because it means nothing– doesn’t it prove anything at all? We were just horny college students! It was over before it was even a thing!”
“Seems like you left quite the impression” Hongjoong snaps back, his fingers fiddling with his pocket, looking for a lighter and what seems to be the only cigarette left in the packet he immediately crushes and tosses into the nearest bin – baffled. You try and recall Wooyoung’s words and the way he carelessly exposed one of your flings, letting the entire table know about how you had dragged him into the corner of a busy street following a night out in a club, begging to be fucked. Like you said, a whole different life— a life when you didn’t care much about settling with anyone, sick of the dating scene and more importantly, a life when you could still perceive Wooyoung’s sex appeal. Back then, it was easy to be charmed whenever he smiled at you, tongue poking into his gummy cheek like he was a second away from bending you over the sketchy couch of his pocket-sized student bedroom. Back then, mindless sex with your best friend seemed like a perfect compromise, especially when you two ended up too horny yet too lazy to go out and seek for a Player 2. 
Now, though? Wooyoung remained your best friend, a comfort place always willing to make you laugh through darker times— but when it came to sex? You couldn’t even recall the last time you had felt attracted to the man. How could you, when the one staring at you right now, eyebrows furrowed, lips pinched together and quite obviously dismantled by the whole situation was still, inevitably, profoundly, everything you wanted and needed from a partner?
“You know he can’t compete…” you feel the urge to insist although you can’t recall a time when you haven’t praised your boyfriend’s skills in the bedroom— or wherever he feels like having you. Truth be told, no one could ever make you drift away from Hongjoong. Even after years of dating, the man still managed to take your breath away. But you would also lie if you said you didn’t like his jealous side just a little. The way his lips turn into a natural pout as he sucks onto his cigarette, his eyes obviously avoiding yours as he frowns towards a random scene happening on the other side of the road between another couple whose fight seems way ahead of yours. You can’t help but notice the irony. Maybe something in the air?
“It’s not a competition, Y/N” Hongjoong rarely uses your name— typically prefers to give you his favorite pet names instead of some boring formality, and tonight is one of those rare exceptions when he is too mad to act like your usual caring boyfriend. You know he is probably rummaging through the most haunting thoughts— thoughts of you pinned up against the wall, clinging onto Wooyoung, both of you still half clothed as he rockets himself into you, making you call his name in the middle of the streets and for everyone to see. 
Rain has gotten you drenched by now, the fabric of your dress sticking to your shivering skin as you curse yourself for ditching a coat just because none of your warmest jackets would fit your vibe that night. Your impeccable fashion taste was actually one of the many things that had caught Hongjoong’s eye when you had first met and to this day, your boyfriend never missed a chance to praise your looks— every morning he would stare at you with a loving smile, a second before pressing his lips to your neck as you both stood in front of your bedroom’s mirror, his sweet voice whispering the most devastating compliments only to conclude with a daily “I love you”. 
“Let’s get you home, you’re gonna catch a fucking cold” Hongjoong adds, taking off his own coat to let it rest like a cape upon your shoulders. Though the fabric is just as drenched as you are, it feels comforting to smell the familiar scent of his signature fragrance, the one that never fails to get you hot and bothered, only because it is particularly crafted for your boyfriend. Rich, fancy with just enough masculinity in the undertone to make you feel like he owns you entirely. 
Although you hear him curse for parking the car so far from the bar, his hand still finds yours as you lock your fingers together, his pace now matching yours — and while you know he isn’t ready to calm down just yet, there’s a sense of comfort in the way he still manages to make you feel loved and cared about. 
The warmth of the car hits you like lava as Hongjoong immediately sets the heat above normal in hope it’ll dry your clothes faster. Though he has started the ignition, he seems to be frozen still, his eyes staring upfront, hands on the wheel as you notice just how tensed he actually is, from the sharpness of his jaw to the way his skin turns white around his knuckles from holding the wheel a little too hard. 
“I don’t want to picture you two together everytime we hang out, Y/N… Actually, I never want to picture anyone else with you, but me — do you understand? or do I sound crazy to you right now?” 
Hongjoong’s possessiveness is no news to you. Not after years of dating the man and witnessing his sudden change of mood whenever he sees a man standing a little too close, let alone having a conversation with you. It’s not a fight you never had before and you know, deep down, it won’t be the last. 
“It’s not that I don’t trust you” he adds, almost apologetic as his eyes finally find yours “but now all I can see is his hands all over you… It’s fucking killing me” you watch as he closes his eyes, growling at his own tormented thoughts while the back of his head hits the leather of his seat. By now the windows are covered with a thick, steamy layer, making it impossible for you to see the road ahead. Or to be seen. 
Taking on the opportunity of having your boyfriend still processing his own demons, you decide to let your intrusive thoughts win this round as you peel yourself off Hongjoong’s coat, letting it pool on the seat 
“How about I give you something else to think about?” you smile, wasting no time in straddling your boyfriend whose eyes suddenly open wide at the unexpected intrusion. There’s a little space for you to maneuver between the wheel and his chest but you somehow manage to make it work, your thighs pressed on each side of his while your arms lock around his neck like two pieces of a magnet smacking together at last. 
“Babe— I don’t think you should play this game right now” Hongjoong’s voice is full of warning, his tone a little deeper than it usually is, but you’re not typically the one to give up on a plan, especially when it involves fucking the anger out of your boyfriend. 
“Give me one good reason to stop” brushing your lips against his, your hips naturally start to grind over his lap, putting on an obvious show while his hands travel up your thighs, creasing the wet fabric of your dress until it crumples at the wake of your hips. 
“I could hurt you” the words vanish against your tongue as you deepen the kiss, dying for a taste of him while the sour mix of whisky and cigarette invades the back of your mouth like a drug you can’t ever get enough of.  Caged into his arms, you feel a little boneless, your own body going limp against the stiffness of his muscles as his fingers dig into your flesh, lacing your skins with thin little red ribbons as he carries your pace by pushing your pelvis back and forth against his growing bulge. 
“When did I ever ask you to go soft on me?” you tease, the tip of your tongue tracing the outline of his lips as you chuckle at the sight of him crumpling in front of your eyes. One of his hands eventually detaches from your thigh, traveling up your stomach, between your breast, palming your chest until it rests against your throat in the shape of a fist ready to choke the air out of you. 
“Want me to go rough on you, love?” Hongjoong smirks, his white pearls as a permanent threat while his grip tightens around your neck, a slight change of shade showing a bruise from a couple nights before, now a little too faded for his liking. 
“Fuck I like to see my prints all over your body— show the world you’re fucking mine.” The daunting mix of his filthy words with the growing stiffness between your thighs is enough to have you mewling like a kitten as you tilt your head back, arching perfectly against the wheel while giving your man the most breathtaking view over your breast as it escapes the thin fabric of your dress — and though it’s been a while since you gave up on wearing a bra, the sight never fails to make Hongjoong go completely feral, his lips attacking your tits like a starved animal. 
“Joongie— fuck” you almost squeal as soon as his teeth graze the sensitiveness of your erected nub, pulling at it just enough to have you lost in limbo. Halfway between excruciating pain and absolute bliss. By now, your hips are jolting at the most crazy pace, your entire body craving for his touch as you no longer fear for him to witness your utter desperation for his cock. With his mouth still tightly wrapped around your tit, Hongjoong reaches for your chin with one hand, his fingers pressed to your jaw, his thumb finding your mouth already agape as it lands flat against your tongue like a priest feeding you a wafer on Sunday Mass. 
While his finger never comes close to the absolute treat of having his junk at the very back of your throat, you still make sure to put on a show as you suck the flesh out of his thumb, taking off his silver ring only to spit it out over his lap with a content smile. Eyes filled with a darkness you know too well, Hongjoong wastes no time fumbling between your thighs, pushing your lacy panties roughly to the side and almost tearing the fabric open from lacking patience as his thumb finally finds your slit, your own saliva melting with the abundant wetness of your cunt. 
“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of this” he almost growls, his mouth attacking your neck, chest and every piece of skin coming close enough to his starving lips, devouring your flesh entirely as you instantly clench around two more of his fingers while yet not full enough. 
“Joongie please” you don’t care how begging you sound right now with your hand smashed against the window, leaving its print behind while bouncing against his palm like you’ve been cock deprived for months. There’s just something about this man that simply leaves you putty into his hands, desperate for more and constantly craving his touch. Whether you’re standing in a crowded room or alone at home, you can’t recall a moment when you don't feel the instant urge to jump his bones. 
You’re lucky the steam is covering up for the mess happening inside your car right now as if anything, everything looks absolutely obscene right now. From the way your dress isn’t doing its job at covering your dignity, all tits out and dripping inside your boyfriend’s palm as he hooks his fingers into you, hitting your special spot just right with every snap of his knuckles, to the increasing sound of your voice as you moan his name like a broken record, brain fuzzy from the upcoming orgasm taking over — yet the thought of being caught isn’t that terrible. You’ve had this conversation with Hongjoong before. When mentioning your kinks and wildest fantasies, you can perfectly recall the time you had told him about how you wouldn’t mind doing it somewhere people could see— while not entirely into the exhibitionism scene, you didn’t hate the idea of having an audience. 
Hongjoong’s hand — the one clenching around your throat until now — finds its way between your bodies, fiddling with his belt as you lift yourself up slightly to give him just enough room to unpack your favorite treat in all its veiny glory. Any other day, you would take your sweet time to give him head and have him fuck your throat until you’re sore but there’s some sort of emergency in the air as you grab his wrist, breaking contact as his fingers slip out of your gaping hole so his hand finds a new nest over your chest, covering your skin with a messy coat of arousal as you finally slide down his pole until it empales you entirely. 
Nothing ever comes close to that first stretch. No matter how many times you have fucked, Hongjoong still feels like a first everytime he pushes himself into you, tearing you apart with the girth of a cock who has definitely made you cry before. Both from pain and pleasure. But today there’s no time for adjustment as you use the car door and headboard as a lever to bounce over Hongjoong’s lap restlessly. The whole scene is messy, almost crude as you pour over his slacks, the buckle of his belt bruising your skin with every hard thrust of his hips as soon as he starts to pound himself back into you, wrecking the pace and your insides all at the same time. 
“Should have invited your little friend to watch” Hongjoong growls, eyes half shut with the veins of his neck growing twice its size from using all of his strength to pistol his hips into your groin from under. “Show him how it’s done” he adds, using both his hands as a belt around your hips to keep you still as he keeps pounding harder with each thrust. By now your brain has turned into mush as you bite into the back of your hand not to scream, completely unable to think about anything else but the insane amount of pleasure piling up into your guts as you feel yourself reaching your high at a rocket speed. 
“What happened to you, baby? Lost your tongue?” he smirks, slowing down for a bit only to go harder a second after, forcing your back against the wheel so hard the car starts to honk with each thrust, making you nervous while Hongjoong doesn’t seem to bother about the sudden attention. 
“H—hongjoong— backseat— please” you barely manage to moan, almost gasping for air with each word as your boyfriend eventually slows down until he comes to a stop, blessing you with the delightful sight of his dismantled face, sweaty and red with his black hair plastered all over his forehead, thick veins pulsating on each side of his throat, chest glowing with dampness. He couldn’t look hotter if he tried. Peeking at his underarm as he pulls you into a kiss, you refrain a moan at the sight of his tattoo as your tongue instantly melts with it, saltiness of sweat melting with your saliva as you come down from your high slightly while enjoying the complete bliss of cockwarming him for a while. 
Breaking the kiss, Hongjoong simply tilts his head to the side, motioning for the backseat, commanding as ever without actually saying the words. Obedient and climax deprived, you lift yourself up and off his lap, trying your best to crawl in the backseat with as much grace as possible while Hongjoong wiggles out of his pants just enough to give himself more room as he follows you there, visibly unpleased to find you with your back against the seat, facing him. Again, without a word, Hongjoong gives you a little twirl of his finger, ordering for you to turn around and get on all fours for him, smacking your ass as soon as it rises upfront in all its glory. 
Pushing a knee between your legs to spread them apart, Hongjoong spits into his palm, coating it with saliva as you squirms with impatience, picturing his fist around his cock as soon as the familiar sound of your boyfriend jerking himself off hits you, making you clench over nothing — luckily not for long as the comforting stretch of his cock tearing you apart steals the air out of your lungs merely a few seconds later. 
“Fuck I’ve been dying to have you like this since you put on that dress, tonight” Hongjoong grunts, one of his hands wrapping your hair into a tight ponytail while the other rests firmly at the small of your back. Although his thrusts are definitely slower this time, you can’t help but cry out everytime he bottoms out, filling you up to the brim with each snap of his vicious hips.
“What took you so long?” you moan, hands clenched around the head-rest as Hongjoong tugs at your hair a little harder, probably as a punishment for provoking him again. 
“Couldn’t wait to get you alone— although maybe I should’ve fucked you right accross the table for everyone to see? I know you’re desperate for an audience…” The filth of his words match the brutality of his hips as Hongjoong pulls out entirely, smacking his throbbing head against your clit until you whine with desperation. By now, that dress is completely ruined, crumbled around your hips like a vulgar rag and definitely covered with sweat and cum but you can definitely recall the way Hongjoong’s eyes had twinkled when giving him a little spin earlier in the privacy of your bedroom. You knew he was a goner every time you wore a dress so thin he could catch a glimpse of your tits hardening under the fabric and today wasn’t any different. If it wasn’t for the unexpected Wooyoung-gate, you knew Hongjoong would have fucked you braindead in the sketchy bathroom of the bar. Not that it would be a first. 
“H— joongie— i’m— close” you almost sob, already overstimulated as your guts suddenly tighten into a knot, your body almost collapsing under Hongjoong’s last efforts to get you exactly where he needs you. Lifting you up with one arm snaked around your chest, fist locking your throat, Hongjoong quickens the pace, the abundance of skin-on-skin mixed with the brutality of his thrusts making the car shake under your knees as you suddenly stiffens under his touch, your screams muffled into his palm as your boyfriend is quick to follow, thick white ropes filling you up to the brim as you both collapse against the seat, exhausted.
It takes you a while to come down from your high as Hongjoong helps you settle back into the seat, cradling you. Your hands filled with strands of his wet hair, pushing it back to unveil his blissful face, you cannot help but sigh with the most sincere happiness when his lips find your neck, pecking it slightly, his tongue darting against a bruise left from his fingers tightly wrapped around your throat earlier. In this moment, nothing much matters except for the two of you and the unconditional love you two share.
No more jealousy. No more fighting. 
752 notes · View notes
mx-pastelwriting · 5 months
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RDR2 HC - Running away together & what would it take
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RDR2 x GN! Reader
Summary: Running away together & what would it take for them to.
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Running away, Some Happy Endings
Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Hosea Matthews, John Marston, Josiah Trelawny
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Dutch van der Linde
- A hard task in itself, prying Dutch away from his power over the gang, it's an almost impossible task. Though echoing Hosea's words to lie low would earn you some time in having a voice over Micah's, he would consider it.
- Nightly talks cuddled up in his arms, imagining life away from the one you have aloud; he entertains it, but not without saying some doubtful scenarios. Having to change your ways, almost manipulating him into taking that life as a real thing.
- Never leaving his side, hearing every thought, not giving Micah a chance to talk to him in private, in turn driving you crazy. Doing anything for that good life, leaving your intentions to change just to get your Dutch safe.
- Every day drained you; all that work had finally caught up to you. Slowly, you lost faith as the gang came into more trouble, making you come to a realization. You made your choice.
- A night of loving Dutch one more time, cuddled up into his arms, then having to leave them. Leaving him in a deep sleep with a final kiss. Taking your horse he had gotten for you a long time ago and what little clothes you had left from all the years of running. Finally leaving in the cold night, not daring to look back.
A year had gone by, and still you dreamt about that day and its many outcomes, but all you could do was smile at the memory of his messed hair loving him for that final night. Telling yourself over and over that it spared the both of you, there was no use to keep trying. Leaving to build your own life, living out your dream that you tried so hard to convince Dutch of so many times.
He would have loved it, just the two of you; he just couldn't see it. Getting up from your bed, dressing up for the day, and having to live off of the small land you fought to get months after. Making your way to the kitchen, readying breakfast before your day of work, but a knock interrupts you from the task.
Grabbing your old weapon, hoping it still worked, then walking slowly to the door, pointing the weapon from your hip. Upon opening the door, your mind and body went blank. Dutch was standing at your front door, looking like shit. "Dear," he says, voice cracking. Even after all this time, he charmed his way into your heart, igniting your love again.
-
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Arthur Morgan
- You both have always talked about that kind of life and what it would be like, but it always ended as a joke and never as something to look forward to. Until you really thought about it, hearing Hosea's story of him and his wife fed into your dream.
- Bring it up to Arthur one night, making sure he took it seriously, not knowing what to say, only he couldn't leave the gang just like that. Over time, you pushed the matter, and he always listened but never said anything.
- Being with the gang for a long time, you watched it change as Dutch came into more trouble. Finally, it hit a breaking point when Arthur went missing from the meeting with Colm O'Driscoll. The camp had to calm you down, but it didn't stop the tears every night, fighting your mind to just leave, but it turned to worry that if he'd come back, you needed to be there for him.
- After days of the gang searching, you finally spotted Arthur's house with him on top, thinking you had just gone crazy. Hearing his groans of pain, you ran to him, crying aloud, causing the camp to spring into action, with some having to hold you back so the rest could work.
- After an hour of working on him finally letting you see him, never leaving his side as you waited for him to wake. Hosea brought you something to eat every day, knowing what you had been going through.
Snapping from your exhausted state as a groan came from Arthur, watching as he stirred from his rest. Tears once again spilled from your eyes while grabbing his hand and placing it to your cheek. Waking fully, he whispered your name, running a hand through his hair earning a hum from him as he rested his eyes once again.
"I thought you were dead," you whispered, kissing his hand earning another hum. "Okay," he whispered weakly, making you look at him meeting his blue-green eyes. Taking a minute for you to understand, you nodded, "Tonight." You responded, getting only a weak nod back. Quickly getting up to then plant a kiss on his lips before preparing your leave.
-
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Javier Escuella
- Being so loyal to Dutch, as soon as you'd bring that idea of life up, he'd tell you of the time he tried to find that kind of life, with it ending with Dutch saving him, in turn needing to repay Dutch with his life. A life for a life.
- Still, of course, you stayed with him, but it didn't stop you from trying. From mentioning small things, such as telling him to look at the homesteads as you passed them or talking to couples who owned their land, hearing the stories of home life making sure Javier was near you to hear.
- Wishing aloud to love him behind closed doors, but he brought up the suggestion of a hotel quickly you shot it down with wishes of loving him in your own home. Unknown to you, it wasn't till the end that he would change his mind.
- Seeing as he buddied up with Micah breaking your heart, seeing what Micah did to Dutch, there would be no way he would sink his claws into your Javier. Realizing it even more after hearing Arthur's words confirming your Javiers changed, solidifying your thoughts. Having to do the only thing that was left.
- Grabbing a bag, you started to stuff your things into it. Hearing footsteps come closer, you didn't look up, knowing who it was. When asking what you were doing, you told him you were leaving him. Shocked, he begged, but you gave it to him in the end, giving him an ultimatum. You or Dutch.
Pain washed over his face. He looked to the floor, hoping it would have the answer, but you continued packing. "Amor," he begged, but you kept your back to him as much as it pained you. "I can't do this, Javi," you say, tears stinging the brim of your eyes. "Tell me," he says, putting a hand on yours.
"All of this, you hate Micah. What changed?" You asked, making him look away, but you brought his face back softly with your hand. Cupping his face, "I know you see it. He's not well. I'm not going to stick around anymore, Javi," you say, turning to zip up your bag.
"It's your choice," you say before grabbing a few more things. "I can't," he says weakly. "Okay," saying your final words before walking to the horses, putting your things onto yours before hopping onto your horse.
Taking a last look at the camp, not caring who chose to look. Hearing as the horse next to you stirred, looking to see Javier hop on his with his belongings behind him. Smiling at each other, you turned away from camp, taking off quickly to start your new life.
-
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Charles Smith
- Having been in the gang for a small amount of time, he had never shut down the idea, though never did he start to make plans on it. Figuring it was from his friendships with Arthur and John or him just settling in having run with him before the gang, you were of course thankful for them taking you both in, but shaking off the idea was never going to happen.
- Taking long rides on the days he got off, hugging his waist while resting your head on his back, talking about many things: camp gossip, your past travels, the future. Sometimes passing by a homestead watching as the people worked away at their land, imagining out loud how that would be, it would be better than always running.
- He loved you dearly; it pained him whenever leaving you to do a job with the gang, but you hated it more when he came to you from a watch stumbling on his tired feet to then crashing into your arms falling asleep before he could even mumble, "I love you.".
- Making his choice after the bank job that had gone wrong, having to bury Hosea and Lenny's bodies, the both of you talked about the decision ending with a kiss and the start of packing your things. Though quickly interrupted by the law, causing you to run once again, making you both stick around the gang a little longer.
- Knowing it put the both of you in more danger, he tried to make it quick by using the gang to help the tribe, only meeting them once by going with him, you understood. Finally, the day came telling only Arthur and John and those closest to you, getting hugs and wishes of luck to your new life.
Waking to the cooing of birds wrapped in the warmth of Charles's arms, hearing him snore softly, kissing his scared cheek, waking him from his slumber earning a smile. Looking at you with tired brown eyes, taking a moment to admire your well-rested faces.
Wiggling out of his arms with an objection as he tightened them, making you both laugh before you headed off to the kitchen in your homestead, but not without getting dressed first from the night before. Having been years since that day, leading to a new life, though the past caught up a year later, causing Charles to go with John just to make Dutch and Micah pay for all those years ago.
Of course, coming back to you with a bullet in the shoulder and a promise to never leave you again, from John's home, you both made it up to Canada, living out your dream of a homestead. Ending your reminisce on the past as Charles wraps his arms around you once more, kissing your neck softly while you readied the morning drinks.
-
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Bill Williamson
- It had never been an idea to the both of you from all the years you ran with the gang until going into town. Seeing how a couple talked about their lives after getting that first taste of that kind of life, you never looked back.
- Not telling Bill at first, wanting him away from Dutch a bit before springing it upon him after one of your hotel nights away, he entertained your thoughts, though laughing at some parts until he realized you were serious.
- His first feeling was anger at how he could never do that to Dutch, but you argued that Dutch doesn't control your lives. Finally, he calmed down, telling you he looked up to Dutch. Knowing how he wanted the limelight that Arthur and John had, you convinced him that even if it was painful to say and hear, he would never be them. His obsession can't control him.
- Even though he listened with understanding, even agreeing, he told you the time wasn't right. Giving your understanding back to his reasoning, you stayed with him. But things didn't stay still for forever.
- The bank job had gone wrong with the law running you out of Shady Bell, feeling as if it was years before you got Bill back in your arms after hearing tales of him on Guarma. Having enough, you started to pack your things, causing Bill to freak. Hearing none of it, you gave him a choice. Hoping he would pick the right one.
Standing in front of your horse, holding your bag tightly, "I've hit the end, Bill; I-I can't. I can't stay up every night hoping you're alive; it's not fair to me or you." You choked through your words, causing a scene for the whole camp to see, but you didn't care; you were done.
Seeing his hesitant look back at Dutch, who watched on calmly, you had your answer. His continuous seek for approval from Dutch would never stop, and you weren't going to be around to watch it kill him or you.
-
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Hosea Matthews
- Having left before he would hear the idea once again, not shooting it down immediately though ending your talk with how his story ended, right back where he started.
- As time went on, his coughs had gotten worse, as well as his attitude towards it, helping with his cough fits earned a hand wave and a choked-out "I'm fine." But you kept pushing, knowing if it was the end for him, it should be anywhere but running with the gang.
- Bringing it up more, he entertained it a bit more, but other reasons would always pop up after, trying to understand you let it go after every talk. As the gang settled into Shady Bell slowly, you noticed that he became even worse; he barely came to bed, but when he did stumble in, smelling of booze, giving you a slurred "I love you" before snoring away.
- Not waiting for his final say any longer, you slowly packed your things over the days, making sure both of your horses were ready to go in the night. Thankfully, you met a couple who knew of a cabin not too far away at a cheap price. Saving up quickly, you bought the cabin, leaving it to wait for you. Taking note of when the watch shifts change and when the camp dies down for the night.
- Finally, you made your move. As Hosea stumbled into being his familiar drunk self, you went into action, calling his horse over by the back door quietly loading on what little you had left. Then, waking Hosea leading him to the horse with false words, finally, you were ready with Hosea in a drunken sleep on your back, fleeing into the dark swamp.
Riding through the night, keeping Hosea on the horse, with luck, you made it through the swamp and into the forest on your way to the cabin. Not knowing how long this would last not even sure if this was a new life. "Just enough for you to rest," you whispered into the cold night air.
Making it to the cabin, using all your strength to get him in the cabin, laying him on the bed, tucking him. Going back out, taking your things from his and your horses, then letting them rest in the small stable for the next few days.
Waking into the morning still hearing Hosea's snores with his warm arms around you. Slowly, you get up, readying his medicine, hoping he'll understand your actions. Being all for him in the end.
-
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John Marston
- Having entertained the idea only came up two times. The first was for one of Hosea's cons, having you and John play as a married couple that lived on a farm just for another couple who actually lived on a farm to come along to buy into Hosea's con.
- As years went on, seeing how the gang dwindled, thankful for not taking your John, but not without a scare and a promise to stay with you. Getting out of the snow, helping John to Horseshoe Overlook, fighting to keep him down, and resting. John made a joke about you being his spouse and having a little farm. That was the second time.
- John wasn't the only one with that joke; being protective over him, Hosea started to joke about how the con act ended long ago, but you were still acting the part.
- Finally, John was ready for jobs again, so you loosened your protection, though you weren't afraid to give it to Dutch if he came back with so much as a small scratch. Furthering that joke in the camp led you two to talk. John agreed to the possibility, but it was different in his mind. You saw it coming sooner than him.
- Sadly, it wasn't until the very end you could live out that idea. The gang fell apart, pushing you both towards Strawberry, but not without making a rule for yourself. Never to live that life again. It was easier said than done. John helped the framer, and you fled, leaving your John behind.
Reading the letter over again as the carriage hit every bump on the road, making your impatience worse. Finally stopping, not wanting to look out the window, needing to see him up close, you hurried out.
Standing there face-to-face with your John, having been gone for so many months, your eyes stinging as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. "It's over," he whispered into your ear, making the threatening tears spill, tightening your hold, not wanting to let him go again.
-
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Josiah Trelawny
- Living that dream already in Saint Denis, but unbeknownst to you, Josiah had dealings with a gang. Hearing the name of the gang from officers around town yet not thinking anything of them. Not even questioning his absence at home as his "office work" makes him travel a lot.
- Loving the stories of his travels made you susceptible to listening for things, but never did you think you'd hear about your husband from an officer's mouth on the street. Then the next day, another questioned you on your doorstep, being very hostile and pushing past you just to find nothing, but before leaving, accusing you of dealing with the "Van Der Linde Gang.".
- Hearing nothing from your Josiah in the few passing days got you worried—maybe you didn't know the man you married. Though finally, you saw him as he crawled up the stairs of your Saint Denis home, the sight brought you to tears.
- The damage to him was heartbreaking. He groaned and hissed through his teeth as you cleaned up his bloody wounds, then bandaged them up. Saying nothing, you let the silence fall with his story quickly following, but you didn't let him finish.
- Saying the name of the gang, seeing how his face turned pale. Telling him of what transpired days before, hit you hard speaking of what you knew out loud to him. Starting with a sigh, he told you everything with a voice filled with shame.
"Stop," you said, interrupting his explanation, doing as you said, looking to you. Not being able to handle the sight of him knowing every cut or possible broken bone was because of his deals with the gang. You started to question whether the life you built was even real; was the love you got from him even real?
"Love," he pleaded, placing a hand on yours looking into the eyes you fell in love with so many times. Still, you held your ground. "No more J," you say, making him look down watching as he nodded. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his upper back and shoulders, hugging him as he sat in your home, where he belonged.
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Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
501 notes · View notes
tangylemonade · 5 months
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NO ONE ELSE
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Jeonghan x afab reader
(The reader wears feminine clothes and is referred to as pretty etc.)
18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)
Word count: 9.7k
꧁ ☂︎ (angst) & ⚠︎ (smut) w/ a pinch of ☁︎ (fluff) ꧂
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WARNING: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage), kidnapping, cursing, description of abuse, Jeonghan smokes, Jeonghan’s in a gang, mentions of injuries, reader has toxic parents. Please let me know if I missed anything.
P.s. I am aware that it’s no longer recommended to wrap fractured ribs but my goodness let me have this (•‿•)
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You were never a one night stand kind of person.
It felt too… vulnerable. Too scary.
You didn’t know how to just give yourself to someone you don’t even know. To trust them with a raw view of you. To trust them with something so intimate.
It had been a long week. A long month. A long year.
You were beyond exhausted and quite honestly ready for a change.
Falling asleep filled with that expensive bottle of wine you never felt special enough to drink you woke up with a fire in your heart. A spark that needed kindling.
And now on this tepid Wednesday morning while you laid in bed long past your alarm you felt more energized than ever.
Getting up you showered before finally checking your phone. Your boss called and you had a few text messages from your coworkers.
You lied about being up all night with fever and called out sick. You’d never done anything of the sorts before so no one even questioned it. One coworker even offered to bring you soup which you politely declined.
You did a face mask that claimed to plump your skin and after that you put on a little makeup. Standing in a lingerie set you bought at some point for a boyfriend you never even slept with, you tried on your only pair of heels.
No one would see you like this tonight except yourself but you didn’t mind at all. It still made you feel sexy, something you hardly thought about yourself.
Digging in the depths of your closet you found that one dress you kept tucked away for special occasions. Your heart did a little flip thinking that maybe it didn’t fit anymore but thankfully with a little shimmy as you pulled up the form fitting dress it still fit like a glove.
Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the way out the door you did a double take. The dress fit you perfectly, accentuating your every curve nicely. Your hair was done and all together with some makeup on you felt pretty. The prettiest you’d felt in a long long time.
You couldn’t help smiling.
Rasasy was a small restaurant that you’d often pass by but never went into. It always looked lovely and quaint and the scent would carry through the street making you hungry on your way home.
It was quiet with a few people enjoying their dinners while chatting away happily with their partners.
The food took its time coming as it was cooked upon order but it was completely worth it.
Taking another bite you looked around taking in the atmosphere. Soft piano music was playing quietly and the booth you were sitting in was warm and cozy.
You found yourself looking to see if you were the only person eating alone. In a beat your eyes locked with a man who must’ve been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Sitting alone at the table to your right he took a sip of his red wine before giving you a disarming smile.
Without too much unnecessary thought you smiled at him and went back to your meal with your heart a flutter.
When you were finished you called the waitress to ask for the check. While you waited you glanced over at the beautiful man’s table but he was gone.
Your heart sank a bit and you shook your head laughing at yourself. What would you even say anyway?
“The bill was already paid for.” The waitress said with a smile.
“Paid for? Why? By who?” you said.
Somehow you already knew.
“The gentleman at table 3. He requested that you’d be given this note as well.”
“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling a little giddy.
The waiter simply smiled with a knowing twinkle in her eyes before heading away.
You waited until you got in your car, buckled in, started it, and took a deep breath before mustering the courage to unfold the note and read it.
-
Hello gorgeous
I didn't want to bother you because you looked so peaceful. I’d love to join you next time.
Jeonghan
+82-3-067-1005
-
The handwriting was a little sloppy yet had a unique elegance to it.
As you moved the paper you caught a whiff of a heavenly scent. Was that how he smelt?
Something regal…like an aromatic green tea and…. cigarettes. Not the cheap kind, the expensive ones that smelled sweet and warm.
“Oh who am I kidding.” You said to yourself with a wistful sigh before tucking the note into your bag. You often talked to yourself aloud to sort your thoughts.
“The lighting at the restaurant was very dim and romantic. Maybe he’s just drunk and lonely. Maybe he’s just playing a game. Maybe he has fun every night and I seemed like an easy target because I was alone and looked pitiful.”
But then a different thought popped into your head.
It came as a whisper.
‘Maybe… just maybe he wants to get to know me.’
The little thought echoed through your head silencing the others while turning your face vibrant with warmth.
Tomorrow. You’d call tomorrow.
Pacing back and forth you couldn’t decide when the moment was right.
What if he thinks you’re a freak for calling so early? Maybe you should wait another day so you don’t seem desperate. Maybe you should’ve called last night and he doesn't even remember you. Maybe you could just text him? Maybe…
You hit call and squeezed your eyes shut while the phone rung.
“Hello?”
A voice filled your ear, soft and smooth
“Oh sorry Hi! Uhm this is Y/N. From last night. You gave me your number…” you heard yourself starting to ramble and wanted to die.
“Wow! I didn’t think you’d call.”
Your face fell in horror.
“Oh my I’m so sorry I-“
“I’m happy you did. I was sure you thought I was a weirdo or something. I felt so stupid but I figured you were worth the try.”
Your words caught in your throat while you tried to process everything.
“Hello? Are you still there?” He asked tentatively over the line.
“Yeah.”
Your words came out in a bit of a whisper.
“Perfect! So… do you want to get coffee or…”
“Yeah. Oh uhm yeah coffee would be- I could always drink coffee.”
“Are you busy? We could meet up today?”
“No, I'm off. How about Colvers? It’s new but I heard they make good coffee and the sandwiches aren’t half bad.”
“That sounds great! How does 2:30 sound?”
“Great!”
You caught yourself sounding a little too enthusiastic and tried to tone it down. “So.. I’ll uhm see you there?”
“See you.” He said with a light chuckle before hanging up.
A date. You have a date. A beautiful, gorgeous date.
“I’m gonna vomit!” you declared, collapsing on your bed with a groan.
You laid there for a little bit playing in your hair and suddenly giggling like a little school girl before hopping up and heading to the shower. You hummed the whole way through as you dolled yourself up and sorted through your things in an attempt to find the best and prettiest casual clothing you owned.
Checking the time you did your final touches before rushing out the door in fear of being late even though you were leaving early.
You arrived 30 minutes early and thanked god for your insight because it was a little busy but you still managed to find a good table.
You ordered their signature sandwich as a late breakfast, hoping you could finish it before he got there.
The sandwich took a little while to come but god was it worth it. You chewed with your eyes closed, savoring the warm and spicy goodness.
“Can I have a bite?”
You nearly choked as your eyes flew open at the sound of a smooth and sultry voice.
You quickly chewed and swallowed, taking a swig of your water. Your eyes pricked with tears as you forced the not fully masticated bite down.
“Have you considered filming a commercial? The way you’re eating makes that look really good.” He said with a smile that made you feel a little (a lot) hot around the collar.
“Sorry. I skipped breakfast.” You sort of mumbled as you self-consciously set your sandwich on your plate. “I don't drink coffee well on an empty stomach so I figured I’d eat before you got here.”
“Same. Can I have a bite?”
You blinked at him. “A bite?”
“Can’t I?” He did a head tilt that would’ve seemed innocent if not for that sparkle in his dark brown eyes.
You nodded slowly and slid the plate towards him with a hand that was now shaking a bit.
He picked up the sandwich, turning it around and looking at it before taking a bite right where you had.
Your mouth watered as you watched him chew.
Fighting yourself to look back at his eyes you saw something mischievous reflecting back at you that sent your skin fluttering with goosebumps.
He chewed slowly before swallowing and swiping the corner of his lips with his thumb.
“This really is good.”
“Yeah uhm.. do you want to order one…” you said, raising your hand to call the waiter.
He grabbed your hand and pulled it down to the table with a smile.
“Nah it’s okay. I’ll just steal more of yours, only if you don’t mind of course.”
He looked at you waiting for a response.
“Oh I don’t mind.” You said, not entirely sure why it didn’t bother you when you weren’t normally a big sharer. That was one of the reasons you were so lonely. It feels hard to give these days.
The waiter brought over an icy glass, setting it in front of Jeonghan and physically cutting the tension that was building as you watched him take another bite.
He sipped the cold glass of tea, his pink lips wrapping around the straw.
“What is it?” You asked as you picked up the sandwich and took a bite, your bite overlapping with his. You internally rolled your eyes as your heart did a little skip. What were you, in grade school?
But why did the sandwich taste even better this time?
“Iced green tea w/ honey and half cream. It’s good.” He said while pushing the glass towards you.
“Ohh sounds good.”
You weren’t sure if it really did sound good or if the thought of wrapping your own lips around his straw was clouding your common sense.
What in the world was this man doing to your dormant and CLEARLY desperate body?
You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him and catching his gaze again.
Without a second thought you put your lips around his straw taking a quick sip, the cool drink washing through your now hot body.
Jeonghan watched you for your reaction and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicker to your pursed lips.
“Oh it is good. Maybe I should order that instead of a coffee.” You said. The tea was not too sweet and pleasantly refreshing.
“I’m telling you. You have a future in advertising.” He said with a shake of his head and a dangerous smile. So charming it disarmed you and suddenly you were smiling too.
If you from a week ago saw you now she would have a heart attack.
You didn’t end up ordering your own tea. You shared his drink with him leaning in to take sips and exchange wistful conversation.
Here you were sitting with a complete stranger sharing spit before you even learned each other's last names.
“So tell me more about yourself? What do you do for work?” He asked, walking alongside you, his hand gently brushing into yours as you stepped in sync.
It was a beautiful day and Jeonghan had suggested a park date. You went on a couple dates before but you always picked activities. Not as much talking time as there was physical bonding like pottery classes and movies. You two finished a quick picnic of sandwiches before going for the walk. It felt nice to talk with him in such a relaxed way as you strolled side by side along the sunny path.
“I work in banking.” You said with shrug
“Ohhh sounds fun.” He teased.
You laughed. “Ehh. It’s not bad and it pays well enough. What about you?”
You did a quick intake of the man walking beside you.
His shoulder length black hair was silky and smelled of a soft warm scent every time he turned his head to talk to you.
His slender stature was fitted in crisp yet simple black jeans and tee that you knew could only be from an expensive store.
“Family business. Nothing exciting like banking but hey.” He said with a chuckle.
“That’s nice! It's just me here so it can get pretty lonely.”
“Even with family it can also get pretty lonely. Do you have any close friends?”
You shrugged before awkwardly laughing “Do you count?”
Jeonghan playfully knocked his shoulder into yours. “Absolutely I do.”
You stopped and looked at him, smiling softly before shaking your head.
“What?” He said with his signature head tilt.
“What planet are you from Yoon Jeonghan?”
He laughed and turned his body fully towards you, leaning against a nearby tree. “What do you mean?”
“You’re just such…a- a.”
“Weirdo?”
You laughed. “What? No! You’re such a treat.”
His smile dropped a bit before quickly lifting into a smirk. You saw an indistinguishable emotion in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Sorry. It’s just I- I’ve sortve been living in this weird little me bubble and the one day I suddenly decided to pop it you showed. It felt like fate… I mean you’re just so lovely…” Your voice trailed off. Your face was burning bright as Jeonghan's eyes watched you intently.
The breeze flittered his hair into his face as if it too couldn’t resist the desire to caress him.
“You’re trouble aren’t you?” He asked in an almost whisper.
“What? Me? Hardly. Besides, I’m not the one giving my phone number on flirty notes to strangers.” You smiled, playfully poked his arm as you spoke.
“Well a beauty like you is non-ignorable. I had no choice.”
“No choice huh.” You continued to quip in an attempt to distract your body from its desire to overheat in Jeonghan's intoxicating presence.
“What? Do you just hit on every pretty girl you see?”
He held your hand that you hadn't realized was still resting on his arm and pulled you closer to him.
“Oh! That reminds me…” he said, moving his right hand and puling something from his pocket.
It was a small blue box that he opens right away and showed you.
You gasped. “These are so beautiful Jeonghan. I can’t-“
“You most certainly can. And you can them in right now.”
Carefully he placed the gift in your hands and rested his hands on your waste, holding you close.
You looked at the breathtakingly gorgeous emerald green studs a moment longer before carefully placing them in your ears. You didn’t own a single piece of jewelry. It was one of those luxuries you didn’t do for yourself and none had ever gifted you any.
Emotions swelled in your heart as you looked into Jeonghan’s eyes.
His gaze was so intense you thought you might combust on sight.
The sun was setting, painting a heavenly glow against his smooth gorgeous skin.
You leaned in before he did your lips touching his. He pulled you even closer to his invitingly warm chest as he fell into your lips embrace. Pulling back he cradled your face and gazed at you for a moment. Again his lips devoured yours as the kisses quickly filled you with ecstasy.
Eventually you both had to take a moment to breathe, his soft breath tickling your nose as he rested his forehead to yours.
You lifted your hand to his cheek while your other hand's fingers laced through the silky hair at the nape of his neck, pulled him in for another delicious taste.
His kisses spread heat through your body leaving you feeling dizzy and thoughtless.
He was completely and totally intoxicating. Green tea and cigarettes mixed with a soft scent you now knew to be him.
The tickle of his tongue on your lips was a magic spell telling your body to open to him and you complied. You pressed into him craving more as his nimble fingers pushed patterns into your skin like a sinful tattoo.
“Wow.” You whispered breathlessly.
He laughed. “I agree.”
Jeonghan looked up at the dimming sky.
“When did it get so late?” He said, concern evident in his voice. “ Let me drive you home.”
“What about my car then? I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” You were still feeling loopy off of him and couldn’t stop smiling.
“Then let me walk you to your car.”
You nodded, grabbing his hand and walking alongside him with that goofy smile still plastered on your face.
Jeonghan would sometimes text you good morning messages that had you feeling all giddy throughout the day. You found yourself smiling so much your coworker giggled and whispered to you “Someone got laid huh?”
“Oh stop.” You said swatting her away from you as you blushed thinking about how good Jeonghan probably could make you feel if his kisses had you this buzzed.
A couple weeks blew by and you talked nearly every day, both of you being too busy to meet up.
Holding your takeout in one hand and your bag and keys in the other you hummed while you tried to maneuver your house key into your hand.
A chilling breeze alerted your skin with goosebumps and you felt uneasy. Turning around you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary so you quickly and anxiously opened your door and ran inside. You locked both locks while trying to steady your pounding heart. Just then your phone rang causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.
You checked the caller ID. Why was Jeonghan calling so late? He never called at this time.
“Jeonghan?” You said through the line.
“Are you okay?” He said quickly, his voice sounding quick and low.
“Yeah I’m okay. I just got home. About to eat dinner.”
“Can I see you?”
“Now!?”
“Is that okay?”
“Well…”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to inconvenience you. Just…you’re okay right?”
“Yeah I’m okay. Why? What’s going on?” You asked, your voice sounding as shaky as you were feeling.
“No reason. I’ll leave you to your dinner-“
“No! I mean- uhm…come over.”
“Are you sure?”
He sounded so exhausted and it made your heart pang.
“Of course. I’ll text you my address.”
It was more than just wanting to see him, you were still feeling scared and you couldn’t shake the uneasiness despite telling yourself that you were just being silly. You wanted Jeonghan to hold you and make everything okay.
You paced back and forth in your kitchen until you heard the *pling* *pling* of your doorbell. You rushed to check through the peephole, the pit in your stomach beginning to unknot at the sight of the beloved man standing outside, his hair blowing in the night air, obscuring his face .
You quickly opened the door with a smile on your face.
“Come in, it's freezing out.” You said pulling him in by his hand without another look.
He kicked off his shoes hurriedly as you pulled him all the way into your kitchen and ran to the pan you had heating on the stove.
“Sit down. Did you eat dinner? I got takeout. It’s nothing fancy but I was just about to eat. It’s probably cold now so I’m just gonna heat it up except my microwave is broken and so I have to use a pan which actually is better because then it tastes…”
You had your back to him while you rambled and you suddenly felt his slender arms wrap around you, cutting your words short as they fell back down your throat, turning into butterflies in your stomach.
He rested his head on your shoulder and let out a sigh that sounded like he had the weight of the world crushing him.
“Jeonghan?” You held his hand and tried to turn around but he gently held you still.
Looking down you noticed his knuckles. They were bruised and bloodied!
“Are you okay?” You asked, worry flipping your heart and sending it pounding against your rib cage.
After turning off the stove you grabbed his arm and this time he didn’t resist as you lifted it, turning toward him.
A gasp fell from your lips at the sight of his beautiful face…battered and bruised. He licked his busted, swollen lip and smiled at you, wincing a bit from the pain.
“Oh my god! How do I not…Jeonghan what happened!” Your hands flew up to his face but only hovered, scared to hurt him any more than he already was. Jeonghan grabbed your hands, pulling them close and resting them on his chest, against his pounding heart.
“Family troubles.” He said with a crooked smile.
You sat him down at your table before quickly leaving to grab your first aid kit.
Opening the box you hesitated as you looked at the over-supplied kit your coworker bought you as a housewarming gift unsure what to even use.
“An ice pack would be great.” He said, helping you along with a humorous lilt to his voice that didn’t fit the situation.
“Right, sorry.”
You quickly rushed to your freezer and grabbed your ice pouch you bought at some point for your headaches and quickly tossed it to the back of your freezer when you realized it was of no help.
Gently you brought it to his cheek, pressing it slowly to gauge his pain.
“Sorry.” You said pulling back when he winced. “Does that hurt too much?”
“Not when you do it.”
He smiled again, gently holding on to your waist.
“Sorry. You’ll have to hold this while I clean your lip.”
He took the ice pack, his warm fingers playing with your now cold ones.
Grabbing ointment you put some on a cotton swab before leaning over and dabbing it gently on his pretty lips.
You looked up at Jeonghan, your eyes meeting his as he looked down at you.
In an attempt to catch your breath when you first arrived home you had unbuttoned a few buttons of your blouse. Right now he had a clean view down your shirt and into your barely there bralet that you wore on long days because bras drove you crazy and this one was comfortable. Comfortable and basically see through.
You didn’t mind at all and made no effort to move as you continued tending to his cuts.
“Anything else?” So asked softly.
You noticed a bruise peaking through the black silk of his shirt.
Jeonghan stared at you for a moment thinking through his next course of action. With a pensive expression he unbuttoned his shirt all the way, revealing litters of purple marks all over his upper torso.
“Oh m- Jeonghan, I'm not a doctor! You need to go to the hospital.” You felt tears stinging your eyes as the night's emotions already began to bubble over.
“No need. Nothing's broken. I’ll be fine.” He held your hand as he spoke, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
You felt his warm body shiver as you delicately traced the injuries on his skin with cool fingers. Jeonghan rested his hand on your hips, tentatively pulling you closer.
“I feel better already.” Jeonghan whispered.
His low voice sent tingles through every fiber of your essence.
“Jeonghan. What happened? Please...”
His hands rushed to your face, cradling it and catching your falling tears with his thumb.
“There are things that need to be done. When they don’t get done it’s only natural to pay the price.”
“What does that mean Jeonghan?” Frustration twisted with worry in your voice. “Do you need help?”
He shook his head.
“It means that I will do everything within my power to keep you safe.”
“Jeonghan…You’re scaring me.”
“It’s gonna be okay y/n.”
He sweetly gazed up at you, stroking your cheek. You found yourself leaning closer, seeking the warmth and comfort you knew he could give you.
Your lips touched, not as a kiss but rather to simply feel each other, the emotions passing between you stronger than words could understand.
With a tilt of Jeoghans chin he kissed you softly at first against your trembling lips. His hands firmly pulled you closer, your body slotting between his legs as he deepened the kiss. Your tongue caressed his bottom lip and you tasted his blood in your mouth as he opened himself to you desperately.
His fingers hungrily wandered, leaving fire in their path.
Immediately undoing the rest of your buttons you slid your shirt off your shoulders, dropping it on the floor beside Jeoghans.
His hands squeezed your thighs encouraging you to straddle him.
“Are you..” you could barely speak as Jeonghan continued kissing you. “…sure it won’t…mhhh…hurt?
His only response was a moan against your lips before he pulled you into his lap, putting an end to your hesitation. Feeling worrisome about touching his injured body you laced your fingers through his hair.
Your hips took the lead pressing against the hardness that was growing in his slacks. He groaned into your neck where he had now begun to kiss and suck the sensitive skin, a moan vibrating against your throat.
Jeoghan placed your hands against his chest, letting you know that it was okay to touch him.
Your skirt was now lifted and sitting at your hips leaving only the thin barrier of your underwear now dampened with your arousal. Sliding down your bralette he littered your breast with licks and kisses.
Undoing the button of his pants your shaky hands struggled with the zipper before finally pulling his cock from the dreadfully difficult blockade that was his clothing.
“Fuck…” he breathed against your skin as you gently circled his tip, collecting the percum and stroking down his length.
His hands shot down to your aching core seeking to return the favor. He played with your swollen bud over damp underwear earning moans from you that had his cock twitching in your grasp. He slid your panties aside, slowly slipping two fingers into you.
Jeonghans hands were as nimble and graceful as they looked and you wondered if you would last much longer.
He pulled from inside leaving you aching with protest before you felt the tease of his tip to your dripping pussy lips. Standing to make it easier you watched as he guided his pretty pink cock into you, his length slowly disappearing until you were back flush against his lap.
With how long it had been since your last relation combined with his delicious size, you weren’t surprised by the pain of the stretch. Your eyebrows furrowed as you adjusted. Jeonghan kissed the corner of your lips, his hands massaging your hips while you breathed through the moment. Despite the twitch of his cock which you felt against your sensitive walls Jeonghan didn’t move, allowing you to take the lead.
He buried his face into your breasts, a string of swear words on his breath as your tight walls squeezed his throbbing cock.
When you began to rock he had to fight to steady his breathing before he blew it right then and there.
It truly had been too long for you. It didn’t take much more of his cock pressing all the right spaces in you before an orgasm came pulsing through your body. Jeonghan struggled to focus as he fought through the euphoric feeling of your fluttering pussy so that he could watch the scene that was you unraveling against him.
The beauty of your flushed face, kiss swollen lips, dazed eyes, and your softly furrowed brows had Jeonghan seeing stars.
You rested your head on his shoulder as you caught your breath.
Jeonghan waited until your heart calmed against him before he secured your hips in his hands and began lifting into you.
Shivers flittered down Jeonghan's spine as you moaned loud and clear in his ear.
Your feeling of overstimulation washed into the building of pleasure once again.
His hips began to stutter as he built closer to his release. You moved along with him and it wasn’t long before your walls were squeezing and pulsing around him again, this time pulling his orgasm into you in hot ropes. He rutted inside a few more times before wrapping his arms around your body and holding you close. You both began to settle from your high, the reality of the moments setting in.
Jeoghan was in your kitchen half naked and covered in bruises with his cock buried inside of you.
You must be going crazy because right now as you rested in his arms you felt safer than ever.
You woke up to an empty bed despite falling asleep in Jeonghan's arms. The memory of you guys pulling off the rest of your clothes and stumbling to bed played through your mind.
Your stomach growled, reminding you that you skipped dinner.
You rolled over to see a note where Jeonghan had been.
~
Sorry I had a few things to handle.
There’s breakfast on the table.
I hope I didn’t make you late for work ^_^
~
You smiled not even caring that you were absolutely going to be late.
The bathroom mirror was still a bit fogged over when you looked in it. You touched your earring and smiled to yourself.
“I should’ve woken up earlier and showered with him.” You said to yourself regretfully, quickly showering so you could enjoy the breakfast he left to you. The towel he used was slightly damp and it smelled like him. You used it to dry off even though you had more than one and hurriedly lotioned and got dressed.
Jeonghan had left you a coffee that was still warm and a breakfast sandwich from Clovers. You thought your face would break from how much you were smiling but you couldn’t help that soaring feeling on your heart as you grabbed the food and headed out the door.
The hairs on your neck stood up tall as you walked toward your house. It was the same stressed and scared feeling you felt the other night. The streets were being cleaned in the morning so you had to park farther down. You walked quickly as nerves began to set in halfway home. Glancing behind you you saw nothing but when you turned back around you crashed into a big tall man. You were unable to see his face before someone grabbed you from behind, holding a damp cloth over your nose until everything started to blur. You fought and fought with all your fading might, dropping your things on the ground before your body fell numb and everything went black.
Awakening to the ringing sound in your ears you squeezed your eyes tighter to gather your bearings. Examining yourself you found a bandage wrapped around your wrists and chest. It hurt as you breathed in. Your attempt to sit up was cut short by your body collapsing back on the bed, pain shooting throughout and settling into your head as a heinous migraine.
Cautious breaths were your anchor as you slowly looked around the dark room. Adjusting to the dark you noticed the faint orange glow of a cigarette burning by the window.
Fear ripped through your heart as every alarm fired off in your head.
You weren’t alone.
Using all of your strength you pushed your back against the headboard as you felt around for anything that could be used as a weapon. A gentle breeze from the open window blew through, bringing a familiar scent to greet your nose.
“J-Jeonghan?” Fear turned into confusion and then terror.
“You’re awake?” His voice came, soft and warm like a blanket covering you.
He stood up and stepped closer to you revealing the slouch of his tired frame. Bathed in blue light you could see fresh cuts and bruises on his face.
“Here, drink this.” He said offering you a water bottle.
You only just noticed how thirsty you were but you shook your head and pushed your body further away from him.
“Please, you must be thirsty. It’s unopened.” He said, switching on nightstand light and showing you the sealed bottle.
You took a moment to mull it over before tentatively accepting the drink. Your action was cut short as pain shot through, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself.
Jeonghan rushed beside you, his hands instantly resting on your arms as his concerned eyes scanned your body. Save for the bandages around your chest and ribs your upper torso was bare, revealing the dark brushing that littered your upper torso.
“Let me help you.”
Jeaoghan opened the bottle and brought it to your mouth, his hand gently cradling your face carefully avoiding you painful bruise on your chin. Without hesitation you parted your lips allowing him to pour a few sips into your mouth. Your throat rejoiced at the relief while your stomach made you aware of its hollowness with a growl.
Jeonghan gazed down at you in his close proximity.
“What's going on?” You shakily whisper to him. “Everything hurts so…ugh…so much.”
A frown wrinkled Jeonghan’s beautiful face at your words and he looked away in shame.
“…Jeonghan?”
“You're safe. Rest here for a few days and then I’ll relocate you somewhere more comfortable. Kim will come later tonight.”
You blinked at him, no sound able to leave your mouth as you tried to process the moment.
With that Jeonghan stood up, grabbed his coat and headed for the door.
“Wait! Where are you going?” You asked, panic and distress filling you at the thought of him leaving you here alone.
“Don't leave me.” Your voice broke and you saw him hesitate, his hand frozen on the lock.
“Kim will be here soon.” He said quickly before slipping out, shutting the door airily behind him.
About an hour passed before a small slender woman possibly in her mid 40s walked in with a suitcase in tow behind her
“Hello.”
Her voice paired with her warm motherly smile felt gentle and sweet.
“You’re already looking better!”
She switched on the room light finally allowing you a clear view of the high end hotel room you apparently were staying in.
Kim went to the bathroom and came back with a basin of water.
“May I?” She asked, placing the bowl on the nightstand and ringing out the cloth.
You nodded and she began by wiping your face and then your hands. It felt soothing and the tension you felt from a stranger being in your presence began to fade.
“What’s goin-“
Kim shook her head, cutting you off without a word.
You looked at her with pleading eyes and her eyebrows tensed.
“Listen here now darling, it probably won’t make much sense but you helped save a lot of lives. A lot of innocent women and children.”
She looked at you with a soft smile. “The work that the Yoon family does isn’t very pretty and sometimes it’s down right awful. But there are people out there who are worse. And hopefully this group of worse people won’t be able to hurt any more good people.”
You were angry now. “That’s nice and all Kim but that doesn’t explain anything.” You frowned, speaking through gritted teeth as your brain struggled to sort things that just weren’t making sense.
Your heart was pounding, your ears ringing, and you were begging to feel nauseous.
“Come on doll, let’s get you washed up.
You wanted to be noncompliant but unfortunately you could really use a shower and you didn’t think you had the strength to get to the bathroom on your own.
You simply grumbled a thank you as Kim helped you to the shower and turned on the water for you. You didn't even mind when she helped you out of your clothes and bandages. She left you alone after that, only popping in to give you some toiletries and clothing.
You sunk to the floor of the tub in tears as your world crashed around you not even caring that your sobs were louder than the patter of the water against you.
You woke up to the shuffling sound of Kim’s footsteps. There was a bowl of savory smelling porridge steaming on the nightstand.
“Good! You're up!” Kim said cheerfully, making her way over to you.
You need to get something in that stomach of yours.
Kim had helped you with your hair last night by drying and plaiting it for you. You remembered Kim’s gentle hands tangling through your hair while you numbly sat on the cold floor. She had to practically drag you to bed but the moment your head hit the pillow you were out.
You pulled the covers around you. You were still naked save for the bandages Kim rewrapped for you and underwear you’d struggled to pull on. There was a t-shirt on the bed for you and you quickly pulled it on. Kim stirred the porridge and brought the spoon to her mouth checking the temperature as if you were a baby.
She set the tray down in front of you and placed the spoon in the bowl.
“Eat up. Please. You need your strength to heal.”
•••
They had you for two nights… maybe even three.
You were brought to a gaudy bedroom littered with alcohol bottles in every corner.. You were left there alone for a few hours before a woman, possibly in her late twenties, showed up.
She was concerningly skinny with a face that was pretty despite the bags under her eyes and the obvious drug use that bruised her body.
She took a moment to circle the pole you were chained to before scoffing.
“You’re not even that pretty.” She grumbled before landing a blow to your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs.
She would come in periodically to throw insults at you and hit you before eventually falling asleep on the bed. She was always inebriated, her words slurring together as she hissed at you with hot breath that reeked of liquor.
On the last night you heard the commotion of guns and yelling. She heard it as well and rage boiled in her eyes as she screamed and hit you harder than before. You felt the sickening crack of your ribs as you gasped for air and tried to stay awake.
When everything stopped you thought maybe you had died.
But you felt the warmth of a body, the familiar scent of green tea and cigarettes filling your bloodied nose. Once the chains were removed you fell into your savior's arms, unable to stand on your own.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”
•••
You finish the porridge and curl up in bed feeling exhausted even though you hadn't moved an inch. You turned your face into the pillow but you were too tired to even cry.
When you woke up this time it was dark out. Moonlight danced through the room caressing your bare skin. Your skin flitted with goose bumps and you shot up scanning the room, your eyes landing on the figure leaning against the windowsill.
You pulled yourself up and leaned against the headboard so you could face him while you spoke.
“I want to go home.” You said, your voice sounding shakier than you’d hoped.
Jeonghan sighed and out out his cigarette before walking towards the bed, sitting at the foot of it.
“It’s not safe.”
“And why is that Jeonghan?” This time your voice sounded just as venomous as you wanted it to, the rage finally stronger than your fear.
“You’ll need to lay low for a while until things calm down.” His eyes intently watched your glaring ones as he spoke.
“You won’t be able to go back to your job so I’ll help you find something new and until then your needs will be taken care of.”
You looked away first, cursing yourself for the way your body still fluttered under his gaze.
“Can I ask you something?” You said as you fiddled with the blanket, rage subsiding and nervousness taking over again.
Jeonghan nodded.
“Why me? Did you really even…”
By now you had figured that it was all some twisted game that only you were missing the rules to. That you were just…bait?
He sighed again and rubbed his face tiredly before answering.
“You seemed…lonely. Like no one would notice if you went missing. You’re also very pretty.” He listed the reasons matter factly as if it was as casual as telling you the weather.
You wanted to protest but it was true.
Your family wasn’t just physically far away.
Your relationship with your mother and father became strained when you told them you didn’t want to keep sending money just for your little brother's addiction. They claimed it was for his rehab but he never went. Once they found his body you knew it was over. They blamed you and it was easier to leave entirely than deal with their constant bilgerance. When your job had a transfer available you didn’t hesitate. Sometimes at night you were haunted by the anger in your mothers eyes. To her, you were a witch who had killed her beloved son with your greed.
“That night that we... Why- why did you come to me? If I was just…if it was just…”
You couldn’t go on as the tears swallowed your words.
“Because I wanted to.” Jeonghan said nonchalantly.
You looked back at him with furious eyes.
“Listen.” He continued with a sigh, his tone more serious now. “ what happened- you didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in this. I’m sorry. Once I started to- I wanted to find another way.”
Emotions stormed through you, leaving you feeling confused and tired. Jeonghan's words offered little clarity, only giving way to more questions.
As Jeonghan watched your shaking eyes he wondered.
At what point did everything start feeling…real? At what point did he allow such a distraction to pull him away. It was never meant to be this way…and yet he found himself only thinking about you.
“What now?” You said, suddenly pulling Jeonghan from his thoughts. Your voice was soft against his tired mind.
“Safe house. Just for a moment while things settle. There’s still some cleaning up to do.”
You sighed and buried your face into the blanket.
A moment passed before Jeonghan spoke again.
“I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. And that's a promise.”
For a reason only god knew, Jeonghan's voice still felt like a warm hug swaddling you tightly.
“Fuck. You.”
Your voice was muffled in the blanket but his sigh told you he heard you loud and clear.
That was the last bit of fight you had left. You already knew that no matter how messed up the situation was, you believed his every word.
The next morning you left for the safe house. The drive was long and the roads were whindy and yet you napped in the back seat while Jeonghan silently drove.
Jeonghan found himself peaking in the rear view mirror often to catch a glimpse of your peaceful face.
‘There’s a special place in hell for people like me.’ He thought to himself.
Not wanting to wake you or have you wake up alone, Jeonghan waited in the car despite having arrived 2 hours earlier.
Your eyelids fluttered awake as the sun beamed through the open car windows. Jeonghan was still in the driver's seat quietly speaking on the phone. His eyes shot to the rearview and he gave you a smile. Unfortunately it was just as charming as ever.
“Yeah I’ll call you back.” He said into the phone and hanging up before getting out of the car and opening the door for you.
You nearly tripped on your way out the car as you took in the view around you. The gorgeously quaint cottage house was surrounded by miles of luscious land. There were chickens clucking around and to your far left there was a horse grazing. It was beyond beautiful. It was dream-esque and… secluded?
“Did you bring me here to kill me?” You asked seriously.
He chuckled butterflies straight into your stomach and shook his head.
“If I wanted you dead, why would I bring you here? Why not just leave you with Stella?
All you could do was shrug.
“Stella? So that is the person I need to thank for the bruises.” You said with a forced laugh.
Jeonghan's lips tightened into a thin line, a flicker of anger crossing his elegant features at the sound of Stella's nasty name on your pretty lips. "Don’t concern yourself with that" he muttered, his voice dressed in bitterness and disgust. "She's...been dealt with."
With that he walked away, closing the conversation.
He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first before following and shutting the door behind you two. The house was lit beautifully golden with the sunsets glow.
You turned to him with your eyebrows furrowed.
"Dealt with?"
“The mouse pays for the cheese with it’s life.” He said with a nonchalant shrug as he walked to the kitchen
“Jeonghan!”
You raised your voice and crossed your arms feeling a bit like an indignant child.
“Hmm?” Jeonghan hummed back without even so much as looking at you. He was shuffling through the refrigerator.
“Did you use me as bait in some sort of twisted lovers spat?” You felt your blood boiling as your pulse quickened.
“Hardly.” Jeonghan said, his haphazard attitude now starting to tick you off.
“I’m already trapped in the middle of nowhere with you. The least you can do is look at me and give me a proper explanation!”
“Look.” He said suddenly slamming the refrigerator closed, walking towards you until he was so close you had to take a step back.
“Stella was never my lover or anything like that. She was some crazy bitch who we did trade with. The skank was fucking obsessed with me, always making advances. Anyway she was running some druggie club that took part in human trafficking and shit.”
He walked back to the kitchen now, angrily pulling things from the refrigerator while he spoke. You pulled yourself onto one of the counters and listened.
“You see it’s pretty well know that the Yoons don’t fuck with that kind of shit so we were obviously gonna be a problem. I guess her and a few other wannabes got together with a grand idea and put a hit on my family. To try and scare us off I suppose. We lost good men that night.”
He paused for a moment, his expression suddenly somber but he shook it off and continued.
“That was enough incentive to put an end to her shit but that rat was hard to find. Except I would get letters from her, sometimes super detailed with mentions of things that happened to me the night before. I had a little fun at Rosie’s House and the girl showed up the next day in bad shape. Told me I wasn’t welcome back anymore. That's when we got an idea.”
He stopped tossing out the old food from the refrigerator and turned to you before leaning against the counter, his arms on either side of your body.
Your breath hitch but you did your best to act unaffected by him.
“When I saw you at that restaurant I knew it would drive her crazy. You were absolutely stunning.” His eyes flickered across your body and your treacherous heart went leaping for him.
“It wasn't enough to sleep with you. She had to think I was really seeing you. That way she’d wanna snatch you up and figure out why, leading us right to her.”
He backed up and sighed. You took a few breaths, trying to steady your racing heart.
He leaned against the opposite counter, eyes still watching you as he thought over his next words.
“…She actually found you pretty early on. The night I’d shown up…the night we…Shit was supposed to go down that night but…anyway I couldn’t show up after screwing shit up so I…went to you..”
Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders. Looking down he began picking at a callous on his palm.
“How did you even find where she took me?”
He stood up straight and pointed to your ears before turning around and unpacking the new food he purchased during a pit stop on the way here.
“Are you hungry? There's some kimbap here if you’d like.”
You slowly touched your earrings as sadness pinched your heart..
“No thank you.” You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “ I’m gonna go and wash up.
“Oh right. Let me show you your room.”
Your room was cozy and spacious. Without waiting for him to leave you kicked off your shoes and pulled your sweaty shirt over your head, tossing it into the basket in a corner that said laundry on it.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Jeonghan said as he turned away to head out.
“Wait—“
He quickly turned back around, inquisition painting his face and he tried to rapid fire reasons in his brains as to why you’d ask him to stay while you pulled off your clothes.
“Can you help me wrap a new bandage?”
He nodded slowly. “Sure. Just call me when you’re done.”
You nodded and he left, closing the door behind him.
Did you really just ask him to wrap the bandage for you? You laid your face in your hands in exhaustion. ‘Whatever’ you told yourself as you pulled off the rest of your clothes. ‘Not like he hasn't seen them already.’
You reasoned with yourself and decided that shyness wasn’t worth losing sleep due to pain. Angrily you took out the earrings and tossed them somewhere on the floor.
You showered as quickly as you could with your sore body before drying off and lotioning as best as you could. You rummaged through the duffel bag of toiletries and clothes that Jeonghan had given you, putting on deodorant and slipping on a pair of panties and sweatpants. You wrapped your towel back around you and took a deep breath that you instantly regret when you felt the pain shoot through you. The pain was also a reminder to suck it up and go find Jeonghan.
You poked your head out of your door. “Jeonghan?” You called softly as you looked around the hallway.
When you didn’t get a response you walked towards the door across from yours and knocked. You heard movement inside the room and Jeonghan pulled open the door with a gentle smile on his face.
“Come in.”
He pulled open the door all the way and walked into the room. You hesitated for a moment and he looked back at you, amusement obvious in the twinkle of his eyes.
“Sit here.” He gestured to his bed where he had a first aid kit already open.
You scowled at him before shuffling into the room and sitting on the bed. You tried not to think about how pleasantly the room smelled of him.
Sitting next to you he faced you and waited. When you didn’t budge he lifted his hands towards your towel, stopping in front of your folded towel.
“May I?”
You nodded in response and set your arms down to your side.
He untucked the towel, letting it fall to your hips and revealing the tender skin underneath.
The room felt cold and your face burned hot.
When he bent down to pick up a jar of cream off of the floor you noticed the bright red of his ears.
He showed you the jar of medicinal cream before opening it and carefully scooping some with his fingers. “This will help with the pain, the healing, and the bruising. Kim makes it for me.”
You watched his hands move with careful elegance and he gingerly rubbed your bruises with the cooling cream. The strong medicinal smell was relaxing as he worked.
His movements were soft and graceful as he did his best to focus on his work and not your perked nipples or the soft rounds of your breast.
Unrolling the bandage he tenderly wrapped the stretchy material around your chest that now ached for more reasons than just bruises.
You couldn’t help exploring his face as he worked. His skin was smooth save for his chin that had a little light stubble on it. His warm brown eyes squinted as he focused on his task, long straight eyelashes fluttering with every movement. His pink lips pressed into a line while his nose would scrunch in concentration.
There was still an heinously undeniable connection that tethered you to him, an energy that left you feeling breathless and warm.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
Jeonghan's eyes met yours, his gaze softening with emotions you felt all too intensely.
He was now working the bandage upward to your breast and you could feel his hands slow.
He continued wrapping, his calluses finger tips grazing against your nipples sending your nerves into a frenzy. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on everything except him until he was finished.
Already feeling hot and bothered you felt a sense of relief wash over you now that his careful ministrations were complete.
You went to stand and he stopped you with a hand on your arm. Opening the cream again he took more out and began rubbing it into the bruise on your arm.
His fingers felt heavenly against your skin as he rubbed more into another bruise on your shoulder.
“Turn around.”
You complied, turning on the bed and showing him your back. This time his touch made you shiver as his nimble fingers traced along your spine.
“Sorry, you must be cold. I’m almost done.”
You felt disappointment settled in as his fingers pulled away from your tender skin.
He stood up and went to his drawer, opened it and pulled out a shirt.
“Here. Lift your arms a bit.”
You complied and Jeonghan carefully guided your arms through each arm hole before pulling the shirt over your head.
Jeonghan sat down on the floor in front of you, pulling up your pant leg.
“What are you doing?” You asked but didn’t pull your foot away from his warm hand where he cradled it.
“I noticed you walk with a bit of a limp.” He replied softly as he rubbed the cream into your ankle before taking another bandage and wrapping the slightly swollen joint.
He closed the jar and handed it to you.
“If you find any more bruises, rub this on them.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t.” His voice was quiet and suddenly cold.
You looked down, meeting his heavy eyes. Your ankle still rested softly in his hands making for a tense atmosphere as he held your gaze.
The expression on his face was unreadable as he carefully let you go and stood up.
Grabbing your hand he pulled you towards him, his body pressed against yours, his face inches away, his other hand holding your waist firmly against him.
Unmoving you breathed in sync as if you both had finished a complicated dance together. You felt the pounding of his heart against the pounding of yours.
“Jeonghan…”
The way you called his name made his head spin.
He let you go and backed away.
“I put the food in the refrigerator.” He said heading for the door. “You are welcome to do whatever you want here.”
“Wait! Are you leaving?” Your voice came panicked as you followed him out of his room.
“I’ve got things to do. I’ll be back tonight.” He said as you trailed behind him down the stairs.
“But Jeonghan… please.” You pleaded. Feeling too vulnerable to finish the sentence.
He turned to you this time.
“It’s okay. I’ll be back-“
You cut him off with a kiss, your arms thrown around his neck. As his shock faded, he rested his hands on your face, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.
Your lips were so soft against his and when you parted your lips he found your taste to be intoxicating.
Wrapped in the moment it took him a little bit to notice that suddenly your body was shaking.
Pulling back he saw the tears rolling down your face.
As you clung to Jeonghan with all your might you couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that spilled out. Even after everything that happened he still felt so warm against you. As his arms wrapped around and pulled you close. you felt like everything would be okay.
Jeonghan held you just like that as you cried out the last couple weeks events.
In his arms your world crumbled.
So why was there nowhere else you wanted to be?
No one else you wanted to be with.
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PART 2
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hannie-dul-set · 5 months
Text
AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.
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p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.
note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.
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when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.
the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.
seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.
splash!
“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”
cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.
“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  
cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.
jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.
“use your fucking mouth, bast—”
but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.
jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.
“oh.”
must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.
“oh, shit. one moment.”
clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.
he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.
“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”
his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.
“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”
the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.
“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”
drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.
“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”
a beat of silence. 
“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”
your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.
“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”
“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”
the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.
“who are you exactly?”
“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”
he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.
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AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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